SCP-1428: Cortexichildren
by Olive'sBadDreams
Summary: Olivia Dunham and Nick Lane travel to an alternate universe that has the SCP Foundation instead of the Fringe division. Because of their abnormal abilities, they are incorrectly labeled as SCPs and are "contained" by the foundation. (After "A Short Story About Love")
1. Over Somewhere Else

**SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"**

**Chapter 1: Over Somewhere Else**

* * *

**Summary:** Olivia Dunham and Nick Lane travel to an alternate universe that has the SCP Foundation instead of the Fringe division. Because of their abnormal abilities, they are incorrectly labeled as SCPs and are "contained" by the foundation. [After "A Short Story About Love"]

**Disclaimers:** I'm relatively new to SCP [SCP Containment Breach was the gateway into which I entered this madness], but I'm not as new to Fringe [altho I'm not the brightest mind in the fanbase], so yeah.

I do not own Fringe, any of the Fringe characters, or any Fringe-ism – look to J.J. & co for those. I do not own any of the SCPs, [those belong to their respective individual authors] nor do I own any part of the SCP universe. However I will claim SCP-1428 & any SCP title Olivia & Nick are referred to. I also claim the Interview / Experiment logs & any other documents that showcase Olivia & Nick as SCPs.

During the writing process, all of the SCP number selections I have used were / are vacant. Regardless, I do not plan on uploading these to the site [this isn't exactly an "original idea" & would not qualify for uploading; also I have not sent in an application to join the wiki, nor do I really intend to in the future] so do not pay it any mind. These are mostly arbitrary numbers.

Again I do not own anything. I do not pretend to own anything. I am just fan.

**Author's Notes:** Timelines & time in general are very important to Fringe. This story takes place after "A Short Story About Love" & before "Worlds Apart" – aka after Olivia correctly remembers Peter & before the bridge between universes is destroyed.

The Fringe we love is wonderful, since we have alternate universes. In my blogwriting I am quick to use Walternate, Altlivia / Fauxlivia, & Alt!Astrid … but I don't really want to refer to characters as Alt!whoever. Those from _Over There_ will be italicized, [except for Peter] like _Olivia_. & those from **Over Somewhere Else** will be bolded, like **David Robert Jones**.

* * *

It all seemed strange. Olivia got out of bed.

It all seemed strange. Because normally her bed was empty, but now she shared it with Peter Bishop.

It all seemed strange. Because last month, last year, last whenever, she could have sworn that she was sure of her reality. That what she knew was the truth – not perfect, but the truth. But it wasn't. It all turned out to be a lie. Her life was not really her life. All of those experiences had happened, but they shouldn't have. That life was an incorrect path.

And it all seemed so strange. Because last month, all of those memories were **her** memories. Why would there be any need to question them? That was **her** life. Why would there be any need to have doubts? Why would there be any possibility to question anything at all?

The answer to everything had been and always would be Peter Bishop. All of those memories, all those memories that she had been _completely certain_ were correct, were memories without Peter Bishop. And now that she had Peter Bishop, she strained to remember her life without him.

Which is strange, because she had lived her entire life without him. She had an entire life's worth of memories without him, but that database was slipping away. Because of Peter Bishop. Now that the universe had righted itself, she was losing all of those fond – yet false – memories of her old life.

Olivia prided herself on being able to comprehend things that most human beings couldn't even dream of, but this was still a bit of a mindfuck. The life that she had lived had been a false life without Peter Bishop. And she was going to lose all remnants of that life and there was nothing she could do about it. It was quite bittersweet because there were instances about this life that she liked. She liked having a stronger relationship with Nina and she wanted so desperately to hold onto all of those treasured moments of her childhood, but now she couldn't remember any of them. And she remembered that there was a time that Lincoln and her were partners. And she knew that they had conversations, some everyday and ordinary and some extraordinarily important, but she couldn't remember any of those, either. And that was a shame. But it couldn't be helped.

Because as much as she hated losing that false life, she relished returning to her true life – a life without a gaping hole in the middle of it all. The answer to all of her questions, the answer to everything, was always and forever would be Peter Bishop. And now she was complete again.

She looked back over her shoulder. Unfortunately he had pushed his face deep into the pillow, but it was alright. She remembered his face just as she remembered their time together.

No calls from Broyles had come in yet and the morning was fresh and new. She decided the hell with it. She decided to just take a walk. She'd enjoy herself while she still could. She'd enjoy herself before a call came in about a suicide bomber who had ignited himself with an array of mystery chemicals that would make Walter's wildest dreams come true. Walter. Perhaps she would stop by the lab, maybe as a surprise. Olivia was always business, always saving the world, whenever she came into the lab – there was no otherwise. Today would be that otherwise. Today would be Olivia Dunham showing up at the door with a box full of fresh pastries.

It was time to make some new memories, memories that she hoped she would never forget.

* * *

"When in the world did you get up?" Peter lazily groaned from the bed.

"About an hour ago. I just got out of the shower."

"Has Broyles called?"

"No." Olivia was fiddling with the zipper of her pants.

"Has _anyone _called?"

"No." There. Zipped.

"That's odd."

"I know. I'm going to enjoy it."

"So where you off to in such a hurry, if you don't mind me asking?" Peter was finally sitting up and flashing a smile that made every kink in the road worth it. He was worth it. He was worth everything she had ever gone through.

"I'm just going off for a walk."

"Just a walk?" He smirked. "There _has_ to be a catch."

"Nope. Just a walk. Maybe to go get pastries for Walter." It all seemed so ordinary, but ordinary was what she needed right now. She was tired of Fringe cases. For one day, or at least for as long as she could, she wanted to have a bit of a "normal" life.

"Well if that's the case," he rustled around in the bed. "I'll go with you."

Olivia pursed her lips together, thinking it over. "Well you can meet me at the lab if you want."

"Don't say that," Peter pouted. "I'll hurry up and change. I'll be quick. I promise." But the pace Peter was moving at was anything but quick. His sleepy stagger out of bed and to the bathroom was quite underwhelming.

Olivia couldn't help but laugh. She walked into the bathroom and gave Peter a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll meet you there. Take as much time as you need." Time seemed so much different with Peter. It was full of meaning, even if it was just watching Peter stumble to the bathroom. Even her most important moments in her false life seemed hollow compared to this.

"Fine. You win, Olivia. I'll give you a word of advice, though."

"Shoot."

"Walter's in the mood for strudel."

"Do you know what kind?"

Peter had one of those smiles again, "Surprise him."

* * *

It was a brisk morning and she felt a sort of electricity in the air. It wasn't the weather, but she couldn't help but feel as if something was going to happen. Something important.

Those "feelings" of hers were usually right. Now she was on the alert. Was a bomb going to go off? Right in the middle of the street? Were some of David Robert Jones' agents plotting something right under her nose? Olivia put her right hand to her gun holster, breathing shallowly. Her eyes scanned the busy streets, searching, waiting – she would be ready.

Soon she was at a small park. All thoughts of getting Walter his strudel had exited her mind. Something was here. She _knew_ it. She couldn't describe it; she just knew that _something_ was there. She took out her gun in one fluid motion as she continued walking.

She was approaching a park bench. There was a blond man sitting there, hunched over. A baby was crying, quite agitated, probably ten feet away.

She approached the man quite cautiously, each step measured and secure. When he looked up, she stopped. And she lowered her gun just an inch.

"Nick? Nick Lane?"

"Olive?!" The largest smile spread on his face. The baby that had been wailing, in what sounded like agony, stopped. She now proceeded to laugh and clap with glee, much to the chagrin of her mother. "Olive is that you?"

She put her gun back into its holster. Now that she knew that _something_ was Nick, she would have to be even more cautious. Nick was already dangerous, but that was the Nick she knew, back in the other timeline. She had no idea how this new Nick would react. In this new timeline, did they still have the same relationship? Did they still have that same bond? She wanted to assume so, because she had found him, with no clues whatsoever. But then again, so much had changed without Peter. Olivia had formed relationships with people she never would have before [like Nina], so what would happen with Nick?

"Oh, Olive. I never thought I'd see you again. It's been so many years." He nearly jumped off the park bench. "After all this time…" he lost what he was going to say as he hugged her.

Olivia was silent, piecing things together. They hadn't met before? But they did, she was sure of it. He gave her bad dreams. He sent her on a wild chase from a subway tunnel, to a strip club, to the top of a building. And she shot him… right? Or no? Those memories were true for Olivia, but they were not true for Nick. Just as Olivia had lived in a world without Peter, Nick had lived in a world without Olivia, since the trials. He, too, had a gaping hole that needed to be filled with answers. But now-

"Olive," he sat back down again, smile still shining and blue eyes beaming to match. "You've grown so much. You're strong – even stronger than before."

Olivia decided to sit with him. To keep an eye on him and to find out just how different his path was from the Nick she remembered. "The FBI does that to you."

"FBI, huh?" Nick chuckled. "Can't say I'm surprised. You're perfect for that."

"And what about you, Nick? What have you been doing?"

"Odd jobs mostly. I can't sidetrack myself with _their_ professions. I have to stay on-guard."

"For the war?" Olivia treaded lightly. She remembered how obsessed the old Nick Lane had been - a ZFT enthusiast and an eager recruit.

"Yes! Yes, Olive! You've been preparing just like me, haven't you?"

Olivia couldn't answer. She wasn't in a trance, but she was definitely immersed in something. Was it a memory? Was it a true memory? All she knew is she felt and saw a spark. The seemingly electric feel continued as she saw two blond children holding hands. And when the spark dissipated, the vision dissipated.

"Olive? Is something wrong?" Nick sensed something. The dormant bond now seemed fresh, like new. He put his hand on her knee, "What is it?"

She felt another spark. A much larger spark. And this was followed by a much larger electric feel.

"I-I don't know, Nick."

He held her hand, just as she remembered. And this initiated something, something large. She recognized this sensation – it had happened to her before. She – they – were going somewhere. She tried to separate their hands, but she felt bonded to Nick at the molecular level. She tried to fight this rushing electric sensation, but it was all in vain. Golden light stretched seemingly to infinity beyond her. And then beyond infinity, what felt like the familiar. Her body was rushing to that beacon, that hazy spot just off in the distance. She felt stretched and weak, as her entire body flung itself into that spot at the same speed of the light whizzing around her. It felt like an eruption of energy, an eruption of everything in her body. Then she _was_ energy, pure energy, surging through matter. And then, nothing.

The two appeared on the same park bench in the same park, and yet it did not feel the same. Olivia knew better than that. She wanted to be wrong, but deep down in the darkest depths of her being, she knew that something had changed.

She turned to Nick with an accusing glare, "What – did – you – do?" Each word was measured and precise, just like her footsteps right before she found him.

"Nothing? Is something wrong, Olive?"

_Was_ something wrong? They did seemto be in the same park, but _was_ it the same park?

She shook her head, "I'm not sure." That was an understatement. Perhaps they hadn't left at all. Maybe this was the rest of the world, the rest of the universe, changing just as she had changed? Remembering just as she had remembered? Yes? And perhaps individuals hadn't recovered yet, but the landscape was? If that made any sense at all?

Walter. Walter would know. She would go to Walter. And she would take Nick with her. Who knows what he had been planning on the park bench. Who knows what he could do if he was left by himself. The world would be safer if he stayed by her side; **he** would be safer if he stayed by her side.

"Nick would you mind running a few errands with me? It'll be just like old times, alright? I promise not to leave you."

Nick grinned. "Have they given you a task, Olive?"

They? Who were they? "Yes," she lied. "We have to stop by Dr. Walter Bishop's lab. We need to ask him a few questions. And then we'll be going to my office at the FBI. I have to check on something." She hoped, in time, that he would help her fill in the blanks. They? The other Cortexiphan subjects? David Robert Jones and his terrorist cell? Some other rogue group entirely? Who was the group Nick assumed she was working for and who else was working for them?

* * *

The taxi arrived at Harvard University. Everything seemed… normal. Students were walking around. There wasn't any amber or panic. There weren't any lockdowns or quarantine procedures. There weren't any oxygen mask signs or zeppelins in the sky. So if they were somewhere else, where were they?

Olivia walked down to the entrance of the lab, Nick close at her side. The door's window seemed dusty and the insides of the room seemed… dark. This didn't look good. She reached for the handle and tried to open it. Locked.

"If you're looking for O-Chem, you're at the wrong lab."

Olivia turned around to find an older gentleman with a mop. "Excuse me, but is anything in this lab, sir?"

"I'm sure it's full of _something_. The university keeps sending me out to check on it every so often. And it all seems pretty important since they won't let me go inside. No one's allowed to go inside."

Olivia swallowed. She felt a pounding in her head and a panic start to spread through her body. This was not good. This was definitely not good.

"Well thanks," she hurriedly replied.

Shit.

* * *

The taxi could not get to the FBI building fast enough. Since they were stuck in traffic, Olivia was left to swim in the scenarios her frantic mind was cooking up.

Obviously this was not _her _universe. Her universe had a Walter waiting for her to come back with pastries. And a Peter waiting alongside him. This was far from that. And yet this was far from the alternate universe she was slightly familiar with. Nothing about this universe reminded her of that. There were no show-mes and there were no double-decker buses. Here there were Starbucks and McDonald's signs. Here there were buildings that she recognized and seemed unchanged, and yet everything around them had.

They were now at the FBI building and even that looked the same. She was quick to pay off the taxi driver and even quicker to get inside.

But those at the entrance did not recognize her, just as she had feared.

When she tried to get through the checkpoint, she was met with a stern "Ma'am, you're not allowed beyond this point" from a guard she faintly remembered.

"Olivia Dunham, FBI," she flashed her badge. "And the man behind me is with me, too. We need to speak to Agent Broyles immediately. The matters are classi-"

"Agent _who_?" The brunette woman handling security wore a deeply furrowed brow. "I know everyone who works in this building and I can assure you that there is no Agent Broyles. Are you sure that's the man you need to see?"

"Yes I-"

"Olivia? Is that you?" She spun around, quite disoriented. Where in the world WAS she? If she wasn't Over There, where was this? Over somewhere else? What "else" could there be? Walter had alluded to the possibility of there being multiple universes based on multiple different choices, but that had been years ago. Could this be a third and completely legitimate universe? How? What had happened to cause this to come into existence? What else was different here? Was Walter still in St. Claire's or did Walter Bishop even exist at all? And what about Peter? What about Astrid? And where was Broyles, if he didn't have an office here? Where was he? Where was the Olivia of **this** universe? Did _she_ exist at all?

But now she matched the voice to the face. And her stomach twisted into a plethora of knots.

It was Charlie. Of course it wasn't _really_ Charlie, was it? Even though this man looked exactly the same, he was not the same. Because the Charlie she knew, the one she truly knew, had been killed by a shapeshifter. And she had to kill that son of a bitch in his body. And she had to forever deal with the guilt of killing a man who looked like Charlie, despite knowing that it wasn't him. She still had to kill a man who looked like the partner she knew and loved.

But the man in front of her seemed like that man. He seemed like Charlie reborn from the grave, even more than the _Charlie_ on the Other Side. This man looked just like Charlie. And even called her-

"Livvy it's so good to see you. But shouldn't you be in Iraq?" **Charlie** laughed, "But _damn_ am I glad to see you. I've had a horrible day."

At least he was able to answer her question. She did exist in this universe.

"Well I'm on short leave since I'm going to be reassigned." She didn't want to lie to him. She didn't. Especially if **Charlie** and his version of Olivia had the same relationship she and Charlie once had. They did not dare lie to each other; there was no need. Between Charlie and her, there was only trust. But, if Broyles had never taken Charlie under his wing, this whole universe-jumping thing would go over his head, despite any trust he had for her. And he'd think she'd need to see the site psychologist, not that she'd blame him. Telling someone that you're from another universe and that you need to go back to that universe… it all seems very far-fetched.

"I have to go. Agent Lane and I need to find our liaison." She needed to get out of there. Seeing any version of Charlie made her want to break down. She would lose focus if she kept talking to him. She would want to _stay here_ if she kept talking to him. A world with her partner again… she'd give anything for that. But she'd give more to go back to a universe with Peter.

And it all seemed too cruel. The universe seemed to have righted itself, bringing them back together. But now they were torn apart – just as they had been countless times. But each time she had clawed her way back to him – back to Peter. Because they belonged together. Because they were the answer for each other. Because life seemed a hell of a lot better when they were together. She couldn't give up Peter for Charlie. She knew that. But…

She turned around. "**Charlie**?"

"Yes, Liv?" He smiled.

She offered him her hand.

"What's this, Liv?"

"I'm not sure I'll ever see you again after this."

"Don't you dare say shit like that to me now, Liv; you just got back!" His eyes narrowed, "Did something happen to you over there? You're acting strange."

"No. I mean it. I want to say good-bye. I want no regrets." She knew this would further confuse the timeline. If **his **Olivia came back, he would have memories of this moment and plenty of questions to answer. But she NEEDED this, damnit. She was robbed of this. That shapeshifter stole Charlie from her. She never even got to say good-bye.

"**Charlie**, you've been a great partner. You've saved my ass countless times so I am forever in your debt. You've saved me – you've saved my _soul_. In the darkest times, I've remembered what you told me: 'You're gonna be fine.' And I have been, because of you. Thank you. Thank you so much." She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't going to lose it. She had cried too much already over Charlie. Her composure would not break. She could not afford for it to break, especially in front of Nick. She did not want to show him weakness – just in case, in some twist of fate, he was sent to kill her. If she showed him even the slightest opening, if she let her guard down even for a second, she'd be dead. And also, Nick had this ideal of her that she didn't want to break yet. His Olive was always the strongest… why couldn't she **stay **the strongest?

**Charlie** shook her hand, firmly, "You _are_ gonna be fine, Liv. You keep lookin' after yourself now, kiddo; I don't want this to be our final good-bye."

"Alright."

* * *

They were outside the FBI building and it felt like the late afternoon. Olivia didn't remember such a dark shade of blue-grey when they originally entered the building.

Olivia turned to Nick, "We need to go back."

"Back to where?"

Olivia wasn't sure if Nick was feigning stupid or if he truly was clueless to their surroundings. But she had time for neither. "Just grab onto my hand and remember – remember what we were talking about on the park bench."

"Wasn't it the war?" She felt a spark.

"Yes. Keep remembering. You were telling me about your preparation."

"Actually I was asking you how **you **had prepared, Olive."

"Right." Damnit. She decided to lie, anything to get back. She'd try to be as vague as possible and she'd deal with the consequences later. "I stick with the routine. I wear the greys and blacks. I never let my guard down. I go to sleep with a loaded gun. I read the old words. I don't trust anyone-"

"Except me." The sensations were back. The surging, the electricity. Yes that was it. Just a little more. They needed more of a kick. This wasn't enough to get back.

"Except you, Nick. I found you, but we need to get back now. Focus on home. They need us."

The same stretching of golden light into infinity. She could see the opening through that tunnel of light in the distance. But it was moving farther away from her. No matter how hard she concentrated [so much she almost burst a vessel in her forehead], they would not get closer to that opening – to that universe. And the light strands faded. And they were back outside the FBI complex.

Fuck.

* * *

Olivia was able to hold it together in the taxi ride to her apartment, assuming that she still lived in the same place. She was able to bite back the panic. She was a ball of nerves – closing her eyes, grinding her teeth, and frantically tapping her right foot against the bottom of the car – but she made it.

And even though the sky was darkening, Nick refused to let himself do the same. He needed to stay positive, for Olive. He needed to stay in control of his emotions, or else all the training would have been for nothing. But after seeing Olivia… that control that he had so painfully acquired seemed harder to maintain. He certainly felt much happier with her by his side again. It felt normal and natural. But he was afraid of separation. The longer he stayed with her, the less he wanted to leave her side. In the event of that separation… he was certain he would lose all control.

He refused to think any further about it. And for the rest of the way to Olivia's apartment, he looked out the window and watched all the cars rush by. He thought of nothingness. He thought of peace.

Luckily the keys were the same and the rooms were pretty much the same, although **Olivia's** belongings and walls were covered in multiple layers of dust.

Olivia stumbled to the kitchen table, set her gun on that table, and sat down.

This was bullshit. She could NOT be stuck here. She could NOT be fucking stuck here in the middle of a crisis with Jones running around doing who-knows-what with who-knows-who. There could be more shapeshifters terrorizing innocent people. And even worse, Walter, Peter, Astrid, Rachel, and Ella could all be in danger, and there was nothing she could do about it. The entire UNIVERSE could be in danger and there was nothing she could do about it. She was stuck.

"No. No no no no NO." Olivia shook her head. "There are too many people who need me. This can**not **be happening." But it was. And she had seen far too much today. She had seen Charlie today. Just when she thought her life was reaching a state of normalcy, after solidifying her memories with Peter, she got a ghost from the past. And contrary to Charlie's mantra, she did **not **feel okay. She was not in control. She had been plucked from her universe and plopped into another with no means of escape. She tried to free herself, but she had failed – fantastically. The universe, who she thought was on her side, had just spat in her face. "No no no no no."

"Olive." Nick's voice was gentle, contrasting her shaking, rather violent, one. "Listen to me."

"But I don't have TIME for this!" Olivia was screaming now. She didn't have time to listen to Nick rant about his ZFT bullshit. She didn't need to hear about recruits; she needed to get home. "I can't be here fucking around in a _new_ universe I don't even know about. I can barely even handle situations on the Other Side, so what the **fuck** am I supposed to do with this? I already have _enough _on my plate. David Robert Jones could be staging an attack ANY minute now and I won't be there to apprehend him. He could be putting countless innocent people's lives in danger, but I won't be there. Instead I'll be here, because I can't even control my abilities." Olivia heaved a frustrated sigh and put her head on the table. "I just…"

Olivia couldn't see Nick and that worked to his advantage. He shivered a bit at the mentioning of Jones' name – they weren't on the same side. He'd have to persuade her, but first he needed to calm her down. He needed to get her mind off Jones. He needed to see her face-to-face.

He sat down next to her and placed his chin on the table, edging as close as he could get to her. The best way to calm Olivia down, or at least the best way when they were kids, was like this. With soft, trusting tones. He could diffuse the situation by calming her down and by calming himself down. Because he would be lying if said he wasn't scared. This was the same place, a place he was familiar with, and yet it felt entirely foreign. Or perhaps he was the foreign one and all of the inhabitants here were waiting to cast him out. Or even worse, waiting to attack him. Perhaps this was the war that he had been training for. This was what Olivia and him were meant to achieve… maybe. Or maybe it was just a cog in the machine, and what was truly important was just beyond this hiccup. Perhaps Jones had manufactured this for Nick to prove himself, and maybe even to win over Olivia.

But for now, he needed her calm. "Olive, everything's going to be fine. We'll try to head home tomorrow. The both of us. Together. And even if we can't go back right away, we have each other. We'll protect each other; we'll have each other's backs. We'll be safe because we'll be together." He even stroked her blonde head, slowly, gently. "We're going to be fine."

"Alright." Olivia nodded. It was working. "Alright." Nick certainly did have a calming effect on her. And for the first time since the Bad Dreams incident, she felt connected to him. And she felt what he was feeling. And what he was feeling didn't really surprise her.

He truly DID feel safe with her. And he always would. Not only because little Olive was always the strongest out of the two of them, but because he believed she would always listen to him and always care for him, when no one else could or would **always**. Even if the Bad Dreams incident had not occurred, his feelings for her remained the same; the rewriting of the timeline had not affected their bond. His bond to her seemed so much stronger than her bond to him [just as it had been before everything had been changed], but the bond both ways remained.

And he loved her, maybe not in the same way that Peter loved her, but it was still love. And it was a fierce love. Nick knew Olive differently, on an intimate level that Peter would never be able to reach. Nick and Olive had grown up together. Nick and Olive had faced all odds together at such a young age. Cortexiphan or not, the struggles they had to have faced welded them together, and that weld was meant to last forever.

It touched Olivia, how deeply he felt for her, but she just didn't remember. Unfortunately only Nick could remember how their bond had started. And only Nick could remember the finer details. And only Nick could remember anything at all about the two of them during that time. He remembered everything, but she… she remembered nothing.

And she just didn't have that same devotion to him. Perhaps it was the memory loss [or at least the repression of such memories], or perhaps it was a bitter truth – the bond she had with Nick would never be the same as the bond she had with Peter. He was no Peter. No one was Peter. And no one could be Peter, especially now. Peter was the answer to her everything… but her answer wasn't there.


	2. Mobile Task Force Delta-5

**SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"**

**Chapter 2: Mobile Task Force Delta-5**

* * *

**Disclaimers:** During the writing process, all of the SCP number selections I have used were / are vacant. I don't intend to publish this on the wiki, so if the series number is now taken… don't get mad. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.

Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. & each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. & the SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.

Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: _Bob_. Over Somewhere Else: **Bob**. It isn't that hard.

**Author's Notes:** Every chapter that deals with the SCP-verse, now until the end of the story, will have SCP-like documents at the beginning. These first few chapters will only have vague blurbs, but the documents will get longer & longer & more in depth as the story goes along. Or at least it's my goal for that to happen. The document, besides being all SCP-like, will serve as a recap of the last chapter or a foreshadowing of what's to come… if you can stand the SCP-language. Then you'll get the "actual" story.

I'm going to try my best to balance the Olivia content with the Nick content… but alas I am biased & the show is biased. But I will try to not always be OLIVIA OLIVIA OLIVIA. But she's my favorite character so…

This is also cross-posted over on ao3

* * *

**Mobile Task Force Delta-5** (aka "Front Runners"): Assigned to track down and capture SCPs before rival organizations do.

* * *

Olivia had fallen asleep with her neck all hunched up on the kitchen table. It felt glorious. The burning, hollow sensation in her stomach also felt glorious.

She hadn't eaten anything all yesterday. And she assumed Nick hadn't, either. Or at least not very much.

_Nick_. She sprung up, 'I can't let him out of my sight. Shit.' But luckily he was still there, right next to her. And he was still asleep.

Olivia felt her heart rate return to normal. Okay. They needed food – and they sure as hell weren't going to find any in an abandoned apartment. She didn't want to wake Nick up, but she didn't want to leave him alone for too long. But she'd only be gone for a little while, right?

But isn't that what she had told herself back on the other side? When she left this same apartment building to go get pastries for Walter? She assumed that she'd only be a little while. She assumed that, after thirty odd minutes, she'd find herself back at the lab with Peter waiting for her.

How worried sick were they right now? Surely they realized that something had happened. Poor Walter. Poor Peter. This happened to them too much. This happened to _her_ too much. But this would be the last time they all would be separated. And this would be the last day she'd spend in this unknown other universe. After buying a little something for Nick and her, they would try again. And again. They would try until they crossed back over. They would not rest until they crossed back over. **She** would not rest until they crossed back over.

* * *

"Olive?" Those were his first words whenever he woke up, even after a seemingly simple nap. He remembered back in Jacksonville that she was always the first to rise from those naps, even before him. Whenever he called her name, she would run over to him with a glowing smile. Whenever he called her name and whenever he saw her face, he would forget all of the bad dreams. He would forget all of the haunting voices that plagued him.

Nick expected her to be right next to him, just like old times. She was always so energetic in the morning, even when he wasn't. In Jacksonville he fed off of her energy eagerly. It wasn't long until the two of them were running down the halls, like little rockets. He was looking forward to forgetting all the voices – since they had been plaguing him ever since he left the drug trials. Those voices made him check into that mental hospital. Those voices kept him distanced from the rest of the world. Yet those voices were also his only friends, when they weren't so cruel to him. But the doctors had told him that it was really him being cruel to himself.

"Olive?" The chair she used to be sitting in was empty. And there wasn't a note. There wasn't a sign as to where she was going and how long she'd be gone.

Nick was overcome with dread, with abandonment, for a few seconds. But he was able to talk himself down. "She wouldn't leave me," he thought out loud. "Olive wouldn't leave me." He was sure of it.

'_How do you know that?'_ the darker voice questioned_._ The voice had been thankfully quiet since his time with Olivia, but now there was no Olivia to keep the demons at bay. And now the voice was as strong as ever. _'She left you because you're too weak. You weigh her down. You've always weighed her down. The doctors paired you with her on purpose – the weakest with the strongest to balance each other out.'_

"No! Olive would never leave me!" Nick's darker feelings surged within him. He was happy that no one else was in the room. "Olive wouldn't do that to me!"

'_Don't hold your breath waiting for her,'_ the voice warned. And then it was gone.

Nick needed to stop the darkness from resurfacing again. The routine! Yes, he needed to get back to his routine.

'After you wake up, you must keep the body strong.' Push-ups. Push-ups would be the agenda for today. Until Olive came back. If he kept his body strong, his mind would be strong. If he kept his body occupied, his mind would be occupied. It was a strategy that worked.

After each push-up, he affirmed his belief to the darker voice – the darker Nick, "She's coming back. She's coming back. She's coming back. _She's coming back_."

* * *

It made her wince to use the strudel money, but it was necessary. It was necessary, but she still felt guilty. It felt wrong that this money hadn't gone to make Walter happy, especially because he deserved it. And especially because Olivia had made the conscious decision to try to be a good human being to him for a change, instead of just continually asking him for scientific favors. _Olivia_ had always been so quick to give him treats [mostly to win him over] but Olivia couldn't help but worry if _Olivia_ cared more about Walter than she did. Of course **she** cared – she sacrificed her life for him countless times, and she would do it over and over again – but_ Olivia_ had the little things. And those little things really were important to Walter. _Olivia_ knew all his favorite candies and all his favorite little stores. _She_ had him wrapped around her little fingers, but in order to have done so, she had to have cared a little bit. In order to have gained their trust, in order to have truly infiltrated their family unit, she had to have cared. And this scared Olivia, almost as much as her identity being taken against her will. Because Olivia was always afraid that _she_ had made a better Olivia than she would ever be. _Olivia_ certainly didn't have the emotional scarring. She had a lovely life with her boyfriend and her elite job. And she certainly looked gorgeous with her red hair. _Olivia_ was able to reap the benefits of a relationship with Peter before Olivia ever could. And _she_ was able to do so with such ease, because she had such confidence. Even in this rewritten timeline, she still had that same swagger, that same glow about her. And Olivia was a bit jealous, although she'd never admit it to her doppelganger's face. Never.

Why couldn't the day had gone on as planned? Why couldn't Olivia had gotten to the small little bakery in time, exchanged the money for some strudel, and surprised Walter back at the lab? Why couldn't they all have had a nice little breakfast over designer coffee made with cream Walter made himself? Why was she over here in some other universe with an empty hole at the bottom of her stomach? Her rational brain told her it was just because she was hungry – that it was just stomach acid and nothing more. But her rational brain was wrong; it was because she missed them.

As she walked up the steps to the apartment – since it wasn't even _her_ apartment, technically – she just felt empty. The food wasn't even as extravagant as well-made strudel, either. It was only cheap coffee and bagels.

"You're back!" Nick looked up from his push-ups, sweaty and pink in the face – how many had he done? "I was wondering where you were."

"I bought some breakfast," she waved the white bag of bagels in front of him. "Sorry it isn't much."

"No this is fine."

The two sat down at the kitchen table. Again.

Olivia sipped her coffee in thick, sweltering silence. What was she supposed to say to him? What were they supposed to say to each other? Were they supposed to share horror stories of the old drug trials? Or should they talk about the weather? But would it be appropriate for them to talk about the weather, since they weren't even from this world?

"I was…" Nick cleared his throat. "I was hoping we could try to stop by where I live. Maybe we could pick up some clues."

Olivia shrugged. It was worth of shot. They had nothing to go on here. There was no Fringe team to help her out of their abnormal predicament. There was no Walter eagerly giving them suggestions. It was just the two of them.

"We should try to go back first."

Nick nodded. "Of course. Yeah."

That same silence.

Olivia tried the "glass half full" approach. "At least this'll give me a chance to get to know you better."

Her try was unsuccessful. Nick seemed hurt. His face fell for the first time. He had been nothing but smiles and grins since their chance meeting in the park. But that cheerful, almost eerily so, smile was quick to dissipate. "But you _DO_ know me, Olive… or at least you used to." He looked down at his hands, already defeated. "Don't tell me that you… forgot?" Even his voice had fallen to a faint whisper.

She didn't want to see that. She didn't want to hear that. Most importantly, it was dangerous. A depressed Nick was not the Nick she wanted to be around. And also… it made her feel guilty again. It's not like she **wanted** to forget him; it just happened. She certainly wanted to forget the drug trials, and her mind had been successful in purging those memories from her waking mind, but those memories of Nick fell victim to that same purge.

"Well maybe you can just help me remember. I've been having problems with my memory." She felt guilty for telling him half-truths, too. "And I_ want_ to remember you, but I just can't."

"You have to fight it, Olive. You can't let them win. They want you to forget. I'll help you remember. I will." The defeated tone in his voice had vanished. His blues eyes maintained that warm glow that they had since she first spoke to him.

Olivia remembered this kind of rhetoric during the Bad Dreams incident. How Nick had been so insistent that "they" wanted them to forget, but he couldn't. If it was something that gave him hope, something that kept him from his dark thoughts, she would continue to play it up. And in truth, she _did_ want to remember the Nick from back then. Just the Nick from back then, nothing else. And in truth, she did need his help. She couldn't cross over by herself. It was just like he said – they would have to protect each other. But she would have to trust him. She **needed** to trust him. That warm glow in his eyes seemed genuine; it wasn't something that a person could fabricate. Olivia knew she had a gift of correctly judging a person's character, and right now that gift was telling her to trust him, because she had trusted him before.

Because she had seen that warm glow in his eyes before – back when she needed him to cross over to the Other Side. He was in a Massive Dynamic training facility. She came over, seemingly unannounced, because she caught him by surprise. When Nick saw her, the entire room lit up, not just him. Everyone around her exploded with pure glee – even Broyles, which was amusing. That warm glow was proof that the bond Nick had with her was still strong. And the bond was proof that he would do anything for her. Because he had, back in that lifetime, back in that timeline. He gave his life just so she could cross over – just so she could get Peter. She could trust Nick. Or at least, she would trust him for now.

"I can't win this battle alone, Nick; you'll have to help me."

"I will." She believed him.

More silence. But this silence was bearable. It was natural.

Olivia finished her meager breakfast. And so had Nick.

"Let's try again." It came out more like an order than she wanted it to. She furrowed her brow; Olivia hoped that her disconnect wouldn't trigger him to anything extreme. She did not want to deal with the collateral consequences of his infectious moods. But luckily for her, the tone went unnoticed. Nick grabbed her hands and smiled, "We're going to do it this time."

She hoped he was right. She closed her eyes and cleared her mind – although that leaky faucet in the corner wasn't helping her. Nor the shuffling of feet coming at her from somewhere else. Or that noisy person coughing. Or someone's tv stuck on a station of static. Or the screeching of breaks from a car outside. Or the cawing of that obnoxious crow right outside the window. Or the sound of her heartbeat. Or the sound of Nick's breathing. She opened her eyes in frustration, "I can't."

"You can do it, Olive," Nick whispered. "Try again."

Fine. Surprisingly, this time, all of the background noises were gone. Perhaps it was Nick's doing – helping her filter it all out – or perhaps her supersonic hearing ability decided to call it quits for the time being.

Go back to where you came from. It all sounded so Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. Or even Alice in Wonderland. They needed to go back home. Except it wasn't as easy as finding a rabbit hole to crawl out of. Or even as easy as tapping your heels together three times and wishing "There's no place like home." She wished it was easy, because she was still in the dark about her abilities. She had done it – she had jumped – at least five times, but the details seemed hazy. Nothing was crisp about it. All she remembered was being on one side and then on the other. The actual jumping process, although while doing so felt like eternity, only lasted a second in reality. And that one second wasn't long enough for her to perfectly memorize the process. Sure she could memorize numbers just by gazing at them, but this was intricate; this was different. This was what truly set her apart. Because countless other people had photographic memories, but only a few could do what she and Nick could.

Olivia wasn't aware of it, but she was squeezing Nick's hands tighter and tighter, fighting to concentrate and remember. Nick didn't seem to mind. He knew that she was tense. He knew that she had a lot more to lose than he did. She had a family. She had friends. She had a job. She had people counting on her to get home. He had nothing. If he were to stay here, no one would miss him. No one would even know that he was gone – except Olive. She tethered him to the ground. She kept him from floating up and away into the nothingness. And now it was his turn to help tether her to the ground, to help _her_ for a change.

There had been golden light before, he knew that much. He felt as if he had been stretched into eternity. And then it all stopped. He needed to get back to that golden light, to that golden tunnel. But where was it? He searched and searched, felt his mind leave his body in a search for this unknown link between the worlds. But the link seemed to have vanished, to have disappeared entirely. He could not find that other piece of the puzzle; he could not find the way back. And by the way Olivia kept squeezing and squeezing, he guessed that she was having the same luck he was.

"I don't see it," he confessed, like a pure failure. If he couldn't help Olivia, what good was he? What kind of partner was he if he couldn't keep his side of the bargain?

"We'll try again later. We still have the whole day." Olivia was shaken, but she didn't want Nick to see it.

Unfortunately for her, he felt it. And it only made him feel even worse of a failure. Olivia was slipping, losing her hope, and there seemed to be nothing he could do about it. He couldn't lose her. He couldn't lose her or he would lose himself, too. And he didn't want to see her down in the darkness. It pained him enough to be there. She didn't deserve to be down there, too.

* * *

The two traveled up to Queens. This new Nick lived up in Bayside, in a modest apartment complex. Nothing special, nothing fancy. Just enough to keep quiet until his "calling" or whatever.

Olivia was consumed in thought. Did this side have the trials? Did William Bell and Walter Bishop ever meet up in their lifetimes? Or was it just like the Other Side, where countless children had been spared such psychological horror? Or was it worse on this side? Was the Nick over here truly a soldier, not just a recruit? When they reached the apartment, would they be in immediate danger? Would the two of them be able to handle this** other** Nick? Or would it be entirely different? Would the other Nick even be there? Did the other Nick even exist at all? Olivia hoped that they would be spared a self-to-self interaction. The reaction from person to person was quite varied. And although Nick was a pretty open person to the strange, she was afraid of possible negative empathic reactions.

But luckily for her, and luckily for Nick, when they arrived at the supposed site of this complex, all they saw was a parking garage. The complex did not exist, at least at this present time.

An "Oh" escaped from Nick's lips. They were back to square one. They had nothing. Again.

"Where do we go now?" The confident Nick was long gone. It was the return of the deflated Nick.

"It's fine, that's fine," Olivia lied. She did not want him going down that path again. They were surrounded by potential victims going about their everyday lives. This parking garage was in the middle of a bustling square. On every side of them were cars, shops, buses, **people**. People of every age, people of every size: large groups of people going to work; couples holding hands and crossing the street; elderly women handling groceries; three year-olds running in between their parents' legs. "Why don't we go back to the apartment?" Olivia's voice remained calm, even though her head was racing with possibilities. 'I need to get him away from these people. I need to get him somewhere safe. Maybe into the parking garage so he can regain some composure?'

"Nick?" Olivia turned to him. He seemed to be in a catatonic daze, staring off into the blue; his normally warm blue eyes blank and cold. "Nick? Talk to me. What are you thinking about? Nick?" No this wouldn't do at all.

"There," Nick stated, abruptly and blankly. "I see him – I see me." He pointed to a blond-haired man waiting at the bus stop across from them.

The man in question certainly looked like Nick, but without the scar. And without the dark cloud that Nick was so accustomed to bringing with him. **He** looked… happy, even if the bus was running a bit late. His clothes looked expensive, well-made. Olivia could make out a navy suit underneath his long black peacoat. And although the two Nicks certainly had the same hair, this Nick's hair was jelled back, tamed, instead of flopping wildly about. **He** was clean shaven, no whispers of hair on his face. He seemed to be Nick self-actualized, fulfilling a potential Nick never knew he could have.

"He's me… but he's not. Look at him, Olive." She did. "He's not a soldier; he's a worker bee hurrying to the hive." Nick chuckled, throat dry and voice gruff, "He doesn't even know of the coming war. He's so clueless. He's caught up in a life that doesn't matter. He's just like** them**. All of the people caught in the balance, waiting to die. He might be successful in their world, but it won't mean anything when the invaders come. He'll be dead just like the rest of them." Nick shook his head in disgust. He snarled, "Just look at him. Not a speck of grey on him. He's not me at all."

'_But __**he's**__ happy,'_ the dark voice began. The darker Nick was bubbling up to the surface again.

"But he's happy," Nick repeated. And soon Nick was lost to the darker Nick: the Nick that had pushed that woman to her death in front of the train; the Nick that made that woman kill her husband; the Nick that made that man jump off the building to his death. This was the self-destructive Nick that destroyed so many others. "He may be a worker bee, but he's happy. He may be caught up in the hive, but he's free. He's just like everyone else. He's not an outsider."

**Nick** was talking to a pretty brunette at the bus stop. The brunette was giggling and shuffling her legs. She liked him.

The darker Nick was swelling with rage and self-disgust. "**He** can get anything he wants. He doesn't need abilities. He's naturally charming. Nothing had to be artificially given to him. He was born a winner, not a failure. He doesn't need anyone to help him. He's not broken, like me. He's perfect, while I'm just a disgusting failure. I don't deserve to live. I'm a waste of life. I shouldn't have even been brought to the trials. It didn't make me anymore special; it made me even more of a failure."

Nick's mood started to permeate to those around him. Just as Olivia had seen before, people – random people – started to gravitate toward him. A twenty-something with a purple backpack and purple hair; a five year-old boy and his mother in an orange dress; two greying gentlemen in their grey suits; and a blonde woman dressed in a variety of furs. They were headed to Olivia and Nick.

Olivia thought the darkness would pass once the other Nick left. And **he** did, with the brunette by his side, on the bus. They were oblivious to Nick and Olivia. They were oblivious to everything around them. She couldn't help but envy them, too. And they were certainly lucky. If the bus had come a minute later, they would have been caught up in Nick's empathic web as well.

But the self-hate did not vanish. It not only festered, but intensified tenfold.

"Nick stop-" Olivia didn't know how to stop him. The situation was growing out of her control. His feelings were out of her control. She couldn't feel the link they had. She couldn't feel what he was feeling. All Olivia could feel was fear, fear for herself and for all of the innocent people around her.

"I'm a worthless failure, a worthless failure that shouldn't be allowed to live," the darker Nick lamented. "I need to end all the pain." The darker Nick influenced everyone around him – influenced them to end their pain. Olivia was in a sea of horrifying pain. That twenty-something purple-haired woman was hysterically screaming, huddled on the floor, rocking back and forth; the boy and his mother were running blindly out into the street, hoping a car would swerve and kill them; the blonde woman had run herself into a window, passing out cold on the floor; the two grey gentleman got into a taxi, whose driver was trying to hit as many cars as possible. Those who had umbrellas were gauging their eyes out, blood oozing everywhere onto the sidewalk. The shards of broken windows were used to slit throats, stab stomachs, bleed wrists, and cut tongues. It was madness and blood everywhere Olivia turned.

"Nick! You need to stop this! Nick, please!"

But Nick couldn't hear her. The darker Nick had blinded him to Olive's existence. He did not recognize that she was even there, amongst all the death and destruction.

"I can't go on living anymore." He was walking out into the middle of the street. A bus was headed in his direction. "Take me now. I don't deserve this."

"Nick, no! Nick!" She ran after him. "You don't need to do this. You deserve to live! You deserve your chance at life! And the people around you deserve to live, as well. You don't have to be responsible for all of their deaths. You don't have to-"

* * *

"Potential subjects acquired, Overwatch."

"_**Describe nature of subjects, Agent Scott."**_

"Subject 1 is a Caucasian male, blond hair, blue eyes. Subject 2 is a Caucasian female with blonde hair. Prior to their appearance in Bayside sector 5, innocents were going about their normal lives. All was calm. 14:00 hours, both subjects appeared in the sector. Subjects appeared to be searching for something they needed; they did not find it. Subject 1 began to experience great distress. Subject 1 talked to Subject 2 about seeing a copy of himself. The subjects began to talk about the nature of this other person who did look identical to Subject 1. Viewing this person caused great distress to Subject 1. Subject 1 is now expressing suicidal feelings. These suicidal feelings seemed to have spread to all those around it. Innocents that were calm have begun to act irrationally and erratically. Innocents are stabbing themselves with glass, smashing their heads against the ground, swallowing toxic chemicals sold in stores, driving cars into buildings. Subject 2 is unable to control Subject 1. Relationship between the two subjects is unclear. Situation is escalating."

"_**Proceed with securing both subjects, Agent Scott. Subjects will be brought in for questioning and testing."**_

"You heard the boss, boys. Let's round 'em up. Get out those tranquilizers and let's ride."

* * *

"You don't have to go through with this, Nick. You may think you're alone in the world, but you're not. You'll always have me. We have each other. Don't you remember what you said to me? We have to stay together so we can protect each other. Please, Nick. I need you. And you need me. Calm down."

Nick finally looked up at her. And she saw the return of that warm glimmer. "Olive."

But then that warm glimmer was gone. It was replaced with fear.

She felt a sharp pain at the back of her neck. Before she could turn around, everything went dark. She slipped onto the concrete and saw blurs of black in front of her. They were probably feet.

Before she fully lost herself to the blackness, she heard, "This is Mobile Task Force Delta-5. We have succeeded in securing subjects-"


	3. Where in the World is Olivia Dunham?

**SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"**

**Chapter 3: Where in the World is Olivia Dunham?**

* * *

**Disclaimers:** During the writing process, all of the SCP number selections I have used were / are vacant. I don't intend to publish this on the wiki, so if the series number is now taken… oh well. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.

Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. & each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. & the SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.

Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: _Bob_. Over Somewhere Else: **Bob**.

**Author's Notes:** The SCP-like documents will start hardcore here on out.

I'll be diving into the unfamiliar SCP world – to the best of my ability. But I'll also be going back to the familiar. This IS a Nick & Olivia story, but the show always tries to tie everyone together. & I'll be doing that, too. & my goal is to give a little more love to Astrid in this. In the first outlines, I had her staying behind. But then I was like NO the show leaves her behind all the time. She's gotta have a role. I want to incorporate as many characters as I can… hopefully. I am just one person, tho.

* * *

**Subjects Under Review:**

**Subjects XB-6783 and XB-6746**

**Acquired:** "██/██/2011 by Mobile Task Force Delta-5 Agents S, Q, M, and B.

**Subject XB-6783:** Caucasian male with blond hair and blue eyes. At time of acquiring, Subject was seen with XB-6746. Relationship to XB-6746 is unknown. Subject appears to be a reverse-empath, spreading its emotions to others. Range of empathic abilities unknown at present time. Subject is prone to self-hate and suicidal thoughts which manifest in subsequent self-hate and self-harm in those near to it, the worst of which resulting in death. Caution greatly advised. At present time, subject is highly sedated. Subject is considered highly dangerous because of event [DATA REDACTED] which alerted the Foundation of its presence.

**Subject XB-6746:** Caucasian female with blonde hair and hazel eyes. At time of acquiring, Subject was seen with XB-6783. Relationship to XB-6783 unknown, although prior to its securing, Subject attempted to calm XB-6783's destructive feelings. This suggests that at one time Subject could control XB-6783's abilities, but in event [DATA REDACTED] failed to do so. Subject appears to care for human life, but to what extent is unknown. At present time, the Foundation does not know of Subject's abilities. Caution greatly advised. At present time, subject is highly sedated.

Both subjects are being kept in Site 19 until further data is collected.

**[[INFORMATION FOR THOSE WITH LEVEL 4 CLEARANCE ONLY]]**

The following is a transcribed copy of Agent S while securing Subjects XB-6783 and -6746:

_Subject 1 is a Caucasian male, blond hair, blue eyes. Subject 2 is a Caucasian female with blonde hair. Prior to their appearance in Bayside sector 5, innocents were going about their normal lives. All was calm. 14:00 hours, both subjects appeared in the sector. Subjects appeared to be searching for something they needed; they did not find it. Subject 1 began to experience great distress. Subject 1 talked to Subject 2 about seeing a copy of himself. The subjects began to talk about the nature of this other person who did look identical to Subject 1. Viewing this person caused great distress to Subject 1. Subject 1 is now expressing suicidal feelings. These suicidal feelings seemed to have spread to all those around it. Innocents that were calm have begun to act irrationally and erratically. Innocents are stabbing themselves with glass, smashing their heads against the ground, swallowing toxic chemicals sold in stores, driving cars into buildings. Subject 2 is unable to control Subject 1. Relationship between the two subjects is unclear. Situation is escalating-_

**O5-2 :** I am quite curious as to the specifics of Subject XB-6783's abilities. Serial Classification numbers of both Subjects shall be as follows:

Subject XB-6783 is to be relabeled **SCP-1375**. Subject XB-6746 is to be relabeled **SCP-1357**.

Questioning of both subjects scheduled 18:00 hours [DATA REDACTED].

* * *

There was a dull ringing in her ears. Her head ached. Everything ached. And she couldn't open her eyes.

Something was wrong. Olivia knew this feeling. Like so many other times before, she had been sedated and transported to some unknown location. Perhaps she had been operated on. Perhaps something had been removed from her or added to her. Perhaps she was being held for ransom. Perhaps this party knew that she was from Another Side and wanted answers. Or perhaps this was something else entirely.

Where was Nick? Olivia tried opening her eyes; she found it would be a struggle. Every millimeter her eyelids moved brought millions of needles worth of pain. But she had to fight it; she had to grit her teeth and grunt through it. She had to know where she was, where Nick was, how to escape.

But all she could see was white blurs. At first she thought it was just her vision, but she truly was in an empty white cell. It shone with a sheen that was too suspicious. The smell of it all was too sanitary. Artificial light burned down on her and she heard the falls of footsteps outside.

Where was this? What was this? An underground lab? A testing facility? She had been in those before, but this was somehow different. None of them had been as white as this, as clean and precise as this. None of them had been this… professional. This was something else entirely.

But before Olivia could even move, she fell right back into unconsciousness.

When she came out of it, still in a daze, she found herself in a chair. And she found that her arms were strapped in with buckles to the arms of the chair. When she moved her chin down, she saw that she was wearing a white jumpsuit with a combination of letters and numbers across her breasts. There was a man in front of her, dressed like a doctor, writing on a clipboard. This man had thick glasses and a mole growing out of his left nostril.

Again into the darkness. But she could still listen, although barely. Perhaps it was the supersonic hearing again, and if so, it was letting her sneak into the doctors' world.

She assumed they were immediately outside her cell, for lack of a better word. They were talking about two humanoid SCPs, obviously very sentient. Those SCPs were to be labeled Euclid until proven otherwise.

This language soared right over Olivia's head. Two humanoids she understood – Nick and herself – but what about the rest? What was a SCP? Another word for a Fringe event? Was this the Fringe division she had been looking for? What was Euclid? A class? A status? Was any of this related to Cortexiphan? Did they _know_ about Cortexiphan? Who were the doctors working for? Was this a company, instead of a government agency, like Massive Dynamic? Was William Bell, or some man of a similar caliber, behind all of this? Would she be able to see this man? And where was Nick? Nick wasn't in the same cell as her, was he? She didn't remember.

She heard footsteps coming toward her and felt something shoved into her right arm.

The sounds went away and so did she.

* * *

"The agent's name is Olivia Dunham, and she has been gone over 48 hours. She was last seen at her apartment in Brighton. Agent Dunham went out for a walk, around 7 in the morning, but never returned. Retrieving this agent will be our top priority. I want a full search of the Eastern Seaboard. Leave no stone unturned. File through security cameras, traffic cameras, anything you need to bring Agent Dunham home. Are we completely clear?"

It had been three hours since Broyles had given that speech and still nothing. Agent after agent had called in with "no sign of Agent Dunham in location x, sir" or "no sign of the missing agent in sector y, sir." Call after call, nothing. He knew nothing three hours ago and he still knew nothing now.

Where the hell was she? He had dealt with missing agents before, but this… this seemed different. Olivia had gotten herself out of hostage situations. She had gotten herself out of countless things before. But she seemed to leave no traces of herself this time. There wasn't as much as a ransom note or even _any_ clue as to who might have her. Or in the worst case scenario, who could have killed her and disposed of her body.

Talking to Peter and Walter had been fruitless, to say the least. Especially to Walter Bishop, who was beside himself with grief. Broyles worried for Dr. Bishop's mental state. Olivia meant a lot to him, and any time something happened to her, it took its toll. She was the daughter Walter never had and then some.

Broyles wanted to deliver to Walter – to all of them – good news. That he had found Olivia. That everything was going to be alright for his extended family. He wanted Olivia to come home, too, damnit. That liaison had certainly grown on him. She was the best agent he had ever had the privilege of working with. And she also had one of the biggest hearts and one of the best characters; it was certainly a privilege just to have her in his life.

Incoming call.

"What's your status?" Broyles demanded. He wanted answers. REAL answers.

"No sign of Agent Dunham in the greater NYC area."

Broyles hung up the phone. Still nothing.

* * *

"I came back with some food…" Lincoln Lee announced, although sounding uncertain, as he walked into the Bishop lab. He sounded uncertain because he wasn't sure he was in the right lab because it looked as if a bomb had gone off. The lab was in complete disarray. Food packages here and there, instruments in places they shouldn't, glass on the floor. He could even smell the faint residuals of chemicals. It looked like a war zone.

"Thanks, Lincoln." Astrid's voice was hoarse, strained. The dark circles under her eyes didn't look great, either. And even when she took the package from him, she was tense, a ball of anxious energy forever coiled up – which would explode if she finally heard the news they were all waiting for.

"How's Walter?"

Astrid winced at the mentioning of Walter's name. "Better… but still not good. He… he snapped yesterday."

"Snapped?" Walter… _snap_? Sure Walter had his fits of impatience and annoyance [usually in direct response to someone's stupidity], but Lincoln never knew the man to snap. He never knew the man _could _snap.

Astrid shook her head, "I've never seen him like that before. He was just… mad. He did all this." She motioned to everything around her with her eyes, "_Walter _did all this by himself. It was terrifying. It took Peter hours to calm him down. They're still in one of the side rooms. If Peter leaves his side… Walter just goes into hysterics."

"So… should I just go?"

Astrid gave a heavy sigh, so heavy that it looked like all the oxygen holding her together, holding her in one piece, seemed to exit her body, "I don't know, Lincoln. I think it's for the best. Just… keep searching for her, will you?"

"Will do."

Astrid waited until Lincoln shut the door behind him, then walked back toward the Bishops. As she passed Gene, she heard a very labored moo that sounded more like a scream. Gene kept stomping her feet and shaking her head, agitated.

"I know, Gene. I know," Astrid couldn't help but utter. "But she'll be coming back soon. Or at least I hope so." When she opened the door, she was glad to see Walter snoring up against a corner. And a more relaxed Peter sitting right next to him.

"I've got some food," Astrid offered. She tip-toed into the room, praying with all her being that Walter wouldn't wake up. This was the first time he had gotten some quality sleep since he had last seen Olivia.

"Thanks," Peter gave her a soft, yet tired smile. "I'm starving. What is it?"

"Lincoln didn't say. But it smells good." Astrid took a container out, opened the lid, and peered in, "It's pho."

"Oh wow. Walter'll be very excited when he wakes up. And maybe it'll take his mind off of…" Peter didn't **dare** say her name.

"Yeah." Astrid recognized that Peter needed some alone time. She hustled as quietly as possible out of there.

Astrid didn't know the status of Peter's relationship with Olivia, but she knew what they had was special. Astrid knew that Olivia was just beginning to fully "remember" Peter from a past timeline. This still confused Astrid, but if it made Olivia happy… she was happy. Up until meeting Peter, Olivia had just been so _empty_ after John Scott. She couldn't trust anyone with her heart anymore. She was beginning to open up to Agent Lincoln, which was a huge step, but Olivia still put up barriers between them. She just wasn't ready.

But with Peter… things were different. Things were immediate and natural and almost effortless. Astrid had joked that maybe there wasn't anyone in the universe for Olivia, but it seemed the joke was actually a fact. Peter was from somewhere else and Peter certainly **was **for her. And now, just when things seemed to be looking good for Olivia… it was all taken away. It was too cold.

The warm broth made Astrid feel better on the surface, but it did little else underneath. "I just hope they find you soon, Olivia."

* * *

Peter hadn't had pho in a long time. He remembered there were noodles – Walter would love those – and bean sprouts and some meat, but he didn't remember anything else.

'I'm not going to think about Olivia,' he determined. 'I'm not going to go off and lose it just like Walter.' He sipped the broth and felt it spreading through his body, coating his insides with an even warmth. 'They're going to find her and she's going to be okay. _She's going to be okay_.' But would THEY be okay? He remembered how violent Walter was last night. Peter was actually scared a little bit for his life.

There was an especially vivid image of Walter that kept replaying in Peter's mind. He could not purge it for the life of him. It kept pushing its way to the front of his consciousness. It was more like a virus than a memory. The image was Walter getting up on a table and smashing beakers to the ground, screaming out obscenities followed by what seemed like a howl. It was horrible. Peter didn't even remember how he had gotten Walter to come down from such a state. He wasn't sure if he had used words, sedatives, or a mixture of the two.

Peter just hoped Walter would stay in a nice slumber. He hoped Walter would stay calm. It'd certainly help Peter keep his cool.

Olivia was going to be alright. Olivia was going to be alright.

"When she gets back," he couldn't help but say aloud, "We'll go get that strudel – together. And Walter'll be excited. It'll be how the day was supposed to have gone. And everything'll be fine. We'll go back home, have a nice lunch or dinner, and we'll do our odd little routine all over again. There'll be a case for us to solve. There'll be universes for us to save. We'll stay together. We'll stay…" Peter looked down at the pho and finally broke, "_**Fuck**_, Olivia." How come nothing good seemed to last between the two of them? How come nothing could be normal? Normal couples didn't have to worry about their significant other being potentially abducted by scientific terrorist freaks. Normal couples had it easy.

In that moment he would've given anything in the world to get Olivia back. And to be an ordinary couple with Olivia. No FBI. No Fringe division. Just them, happy without a care in the world, in the suburbs. He could be an accountant with a deadbeat job, for all he cared. He just wanted someplace where they could be safe.

But Peter knew that could never happen. They were both in too deep at this point.

"_Fuck_, Olivia."

* * *

Had that really been him? Walter's dreaming mind was placing him in an outer body experience against his will, looking in at the destruction he had caused yesterday.

At first it had started calm, "Agent Dunham has been gone for a day." Walter had merely shrugged it off. "She'll be fine. She's always been fine. She's always been strong." But the more he repeated variants of "Olivia will be fine," the less he believed it. And the less he believed it, the more he said it – frantically. And his fervor got to a point where everything seemed ridiculous.

"Peter! Where in the world is Olivia?" He grabbed onto Peter's coat collar. "I need to see her again, Peter!"

"We all do, Walter." Peter was trying to stay in control. He was trying to calm his father down. "But sit down. You need to rest. You haven't slept since we got the news."

But this only triggered Walter to rage. "_How can I sleep when Agent Dunham is out there in the world, probably in serious danger? How callous of you, Peter. I thought you __cared__ about her. She could be out there getting __**raped **__by various __**demons **__of the night_-"

"You stop right there, Walter." Peter's voice shook, but only in the slightest degree. He was stubborn in his refusal to lose himself. "Stop jumping to conclusions. You'll only worry yourself even more. All we have to do is wait-"

"_But waiting is next to__** nothing**__, Peter_!" Walter smacked a petri dish full of something to the ground. It shattered instantly, causing Astrid to yell, "Walter!" in great surprise. His voice was transforming into a growl, a furious, "_This is unacceptable. The FBI is barely even trying. They're just __**pissing**__ all over the matter. I bet __**I **__could find Olivia. __** I **__actually care. All those good-for-nothings in their suits and their ties_-"

"Walter, please!" Peter had his hands up and was slowly approaching Walter, who had darted behind a cabinet, looking for things to smash. "You need to calm down."

"**I AM CALM, PETER. **_Because what do you think Olivia is going through?_ _She's probably terrified. She's probably getting experimented on. Or tortured. Or BOTH. And you don't even care! __**You want to get into her vagina and you don't even care about her safety**_-"

That was not smart of Walter to say. It was Peter's turn to explode, although it still paled in comparison to Walter's current status, "How **DARE** you question my love for Olivia; how **DARE** you doubt it at all. A person who couldn't even love his own wife right has no right to lecture me on what to feel or what to do. This all seems _rich_ coming from someone who willingly abandoned his family to work on science experiments to stroke his ego and his goddamn god complex. How **DARE** you even go to those levels, Walter. And yelling at me and trying to make me feel guilty isn't going to help bring Olivia back. All it's going to do is make me angry." Peter exhaled deeply, adding, "It's not like she can hear you, Walter."

Walter just snarled at Peter and got up on the counter. He threw empty beakers right at Peter's feet.

"WALTER, STOP. LOOK AT WHAT YOU ARE DOING. COME DOWN OFF THE TABLE. COME DOWN NOW. WHAT ARE YOU HOPING TO ACCOMPLISH RIGHT NOW?"

"_WHAT I WANT TO FUCKING ACCOMPLISH ISN'T OF YOUR DAMN CONCERN_, _**SON**_." His twisted emphasis on the word "son" was harsher than any swear word Walter could hurl out of his mouth. And the fact that here, in this moment of all moments, Walter was able to realize that Peter WAS in fact his son… it stung worst of all. "I WANT_**OLIVIA**_." He stopped targeting Peter's body parts and just threw beakers on the ground randomly. Although one did get dangerously close to Astrid, which naturally caused her to scream "_**WALTER?!**_" in great disbelief and anger. Astrid also ran to bring solace to Gene, who was mooing uncontrollably and pounding the ground with her hooves. Her background noise was not helping Walter's sudden violent break with reality.

Then Walter wasn't saying words at all. Just vague growls, howls, and cries of rage. He kicked things off the table and raised his fists up to the sky.

And then all was calm. Walter woke up.

"Oh Peter!" Walter gasped out. He then went on a frantic, frightened stream of consciousness, "Did I really do those horrible things last night? Please know that I didn't know what was happening. I didn't mean any of those horrible things. I am so terribly sorry. Please forgive me. Oh Peter I'm just so scared and I want Olivia back and I'm just so worried for her and I want her back."

Peter brought his father into his arms and rocked back and forth with him, hoping to relax him down again. "We all want her back, Walter. _We all do_."

* * *

"If you feel that this will give us any indication to Agent Dunham's location then I say you go for it, Agent Lee."

Broyles' words rang in his ears as he walked to the bridge between the two worlds, which was an odd place for him to be. And quite a bit poetic. Lincoln Lee was going to the ends of this universe and into the next in search for Olivia Dunham. He was certain that she would do the same for him, certainly for anyone she really cared about. That's what made her special, and worth finding in the first place.

The scanning in order to pass to the other side usually made him nervous. That alone usually made him anxious beyond belief, but this was different. He felt like throwing up all over the scanning room. He felt like screaming and pounding his fists against the delicate instruments in the walls. He was deathly afraid for Olivia. Where in the world was she? Was she in **this **world? Or was she back in their world?

"Welcome, Agent Lee."

He nodded, not really absorbing what the attendant had just said to him. What could have happened to her? Going off for a walk and then all of a sudden gone? There were too many possibilities. The common one amongst the Fringe team was abduction by a David Robert Jones affiliated agent, or by David Robert Jones himself… but any other situation seemed just as likely. And there were just too many.

And now Lincoln was going to tackle the task of trying to find Olivia in this entire universe by himself. There were SWAT teams sweeping cities, but he was _one man_ hoping to sweep an entire country. It seemed unlikely that he would be able to find anything. He felt like giving up before he even began.

And just when he was about to walk back, he saw _her_.

"Agent Lee, what a surprise." Although that same voice did not convey such surprise. The voice didn't seem to care at all.

It was _Olivia_. An Olivia with red hair and a sharper sense of sass, but an Olivia still. _She_ could help, right? Right?

"_Agent… Dunham_." His voice sounded too meek. His throat was closing up. He didn't know what to say to her. Even though she wasn't Olivia… she _was_, a bit. And he felt all of this emotion: fear over not being able to find her; fear over not being good enough to find her; and fear over finding nothing but a pile of flesh and bones. He cleared his throat and was finally able to speak again, "Our Olivia Dunham has been missing for the past 48 hours and I was hoping to do a brief scan of your side."

_Olivia_ rolled her eyes, "Does **your** Olivia get herself into these kinds of situations often?"

"Not necessarily, but-"

"You do understand that **our** Fringe events and **our** missions are top priority here. If you haven't forgotten, _Agent _Lee, but our world is, in a lot of ways, a lot more_ fragile_ than yours. We have matters over here that you couldn't even fathom tackling with your pathetic excuse of a team. When we are not tackling such highly sensitive and important matters, THEN you can make a desperate little search for your blondie. Are we understood?"

"But, but that's not good enough, _Agent Dunham_." No. Peter Bishop wouldn't take that for an answer. And HE certainly wouldn't take that for an answer. "One of our top agents is missing. This may be the doing of David Robert Jones and if it is, both of our universes are in jeopardy. Agent Dunham has access to very classified information. And her abilities make her a prime target. This agent is-"

"This one agent is more important than my **entire** universe?" _Olivia's_ nostrils flared. "Do you have any idea how _selfish_ you sound? Everyone from your side expects us to bend over backwards to meet your needs. Well I am sick of it. We don't exist just to cater to your whims-"

"With all due respect, _Agent Dunham_, but I believe that my side would try to find a missing agent of yours, too. Or at least, I would. I mean if you were to go missing, I'd make… an effort… to." Lincoln looked down at his feet, feeling his face grow hot.

"Hmph," _Olivia_ turned around. "I'll give you fifteen minutes with _Astrid_. If you can't find your girlfriend after that, she's either not here or you'll need to come back some other time."

"Thank you so-"

"Fifteen minutes. Not a minute more. Are we clear?"

"Yes."

* * *

_Astrid's_ fingers were moving across screens and surfaces faster than Lincoln could dream to compute. "I apologize, Agent Lee, but I am unable to find Agent Dunham at present time. In such a short amount of time, I cannot possibly account for all of the known possible locations Agent Dunham could be. If you would like, I could leave the search running to give a better-"

"That would be great," Lincoln gushed. "And if you find anything, you can send a liaison and we can-"

_Astrid_ finally blinked as she looked over at Lincoln, "Although I must give you a word of caution. It is unlikely that Agent Dunham is on this side, even if it is David Robert Jones' doing. There have been no detected anomalies between the two sides in the past 54 hours. It is most likely that she is still in your universe."

"If you were to give me a probability, what would be your guess?" Lincoln leaned in closer, quite unaware that _Olivia_ was behind him ready to pluck him away.

"Less than 15%. That is my best guess."

"You heard the woman." _Olivia's_ tone was quite irritated. "We've entertained your little Where's Wally search long enough."

"Where's Wally? Don't you mean Where's Waldo?" Lincoln pushed up his glasses as he stared at _Olivia's_ stern jaw.

"Sure. Same thing." _Olivia_ snapped, "I need to get you back to the bridge. Some of us are actually doing _real work_ here." _Olivia _grabbed his right shoulder and dragged him off.

"Ow, you don't need to be so forceful." Lincoln plied _Olivia's_ fingers off of him. "I can walk back under my own power."

"Your own power, huh?" _Olivia_ smirked. "Fine."

* * *

"Their Astrid made a brief search, and judging by their cameras, Olivia doesn't seem to be there. Although she also said that it's unlikely that Olivia is Over There in the first place. I'm sorry I wasn't able to do better, sir," Lincoln pushed his glasses up again. "How's the search on this side?"

"Much of the same," Broyles reclined further in his chair. "Every hook is empty, it seems like. I'd like to consult with Walter Bishop, when he feels up to it. When he's ready, I'll arrange a meeting. I want to get his take on things."

"I'll have Peter let you know when." Lincoln then shared, "But I don't think it'll be anytime soon. He's not in the best state at the moment."

"The same can be said for all of us."


	4. SCP-1375

**SCP-1428** – **"Cortexichildren"**

**Chapter 4: SCP-1375**

* * *

**Disclaimers:** During the writing process, all of the SCP number selections I have used were / are vacant. I don't intend to publish this on the wiki, so if the series number is now taken… oh well. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.

Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. & each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. & the SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.

Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: _Bob_. Over Somewhere Else: **Bob**.

**Author's Notes:** I hope you're ready to **really** go on the SCP journey. We're gunna get to the good stuff. More science & more research I'm going to have to do, unfortunately, but THE GOOD STUFF. I was able to crank out the previous 3 chapters relatively easy. But now I'll have to really quintuple check to stay in character.

Lol why couldn't I have just made a flashback fic with Nick & Olivia? Why did I have to be so ambitious? Lolgod.

* * *

**Item #:** SCP-1375

**Object Class:** Euclid

**Special Containment Procedures:** SCP-1375 is to be contained i meter room and must be sedated at all times. While in its containment cell, security guards must administer Class B sedatives every hour. Failure to apply these procedures will bear unknown consequences at this time. Food and water must be provided three times a day. Direct and sustained contact with SCP-1375 is prohibited unless for research purposes authorized by at least 5 members of O5 Command.

**Transportation Procedures:** While SCP-1375 is being transported from its cell to a research facility, the highest sedatives must be used at all times. Upon entering SCP-1375's cell, Class A sedatives must be administered immediately and must continue to be administered until SCP-1375 is docile and cooperative enough to move without incident. Those transporting and those having any other form of contact with the SCP must have Class A sedatives on them at all times. Once SCP-1375 has been successfully transferred to a secure research room, sedatives given to SCP-1375 will be lowered to Class C or D, depending on the manor of such research. Once questioning and research have finished, repeat transportation procedures.

**Description:** SCP-1375 is a Caucasian male of average height with blond hair and blue eyes. It is believed SCP-1375 is a reverse-empath, with the capability of transferring its emotions to those around it. SCP-1375 is emotionally unstable and highly suicidal. It is also prone to self-hatred and self-harm. The transferring of these emotions commonly results in the deaths of those around it. The range of these abilities and whether only negative emotions transfer to human hosts is unknown.

Upon containment, SCP-1375 was spotted with SCP-1357. The manor of this relationship is unknown. Because of the circumstances surrounding their discovery, SCP-1357 may have the ability to control SCP-1375.

**Note:** Not much is known about SCP-1375 at present time, which makes this SCP highly dangerous.

Basically we have no idea what we're doing, people. Look sharp and stay sharp. Of course all these files are subject to change, too, once we get more information. When in doubt, sedate. Don't try to be a hero. – Dr. ████

* * *

"Olive? Olive?!"

No this wasn't right. Everything was just a sea of moving black, orange, and white blurs – not Olivia. Everything was panic and despair, not Olivia.

"Where's Olive? _Tell me where she is_!" Nick became more and more distressed, continuing to cry out to her – to demand for her. "_Tell me where Olive is_!"

But all of this aggression and disruption worked against Nick. And soon he found himself right back in the daze he had so desperately tried to claw out of.

The daze didn't just keep him docile; it kept him… positive, for once. His thoughts, instead of racing to how the two of them had been kidnapped, separated, and imprisoned for some unknown reason, traveled to _glass half full_ thoughts. He was moving now. They were walking him somewhere – he didn't know where – but at least he was out of his cell. At least they had stopped using restraints on him. At least he was still alive.

But the daze wasn't strong enough to contain the darker Nick, the deeper Nick. He was subdued, but not stifled. '_Look around, Nick. You have to get out of here. You'll __**break**__ if they keep you locked in here. You're too __**weak**__ to stay here. You need to get out.'_

But looking around proved useless. Nick wanted to see distinct images, but all he saw were more blurs and blobs. Sometimes the blobs were a bit more in focus, but his vision was futile; he could not trust it.

'_That's not good enough, Nick. You want to know where they're keeping Olive, right? Where do they have her? Where do they have you? Get ANSWERS, Nick.'_

But Nick was too deep in the daze and too submerged in fear to do much of anything. This was unlike any facility he had ever been in. He was guessing military, since he was being kept in such secrecy and in such security. He could hear the loud thumping of boots along with the shuffling of firearms. There were larger black blobs, he guessed guards, behind him, in front of him, beside him, and farther away in the distance. The place was crawling with them.

But who were these people? If they were soldiers working for Jones, they needed to let him speak. They had the wrong people. He needed to tell them that they were all on the same side – that they were all recruits and that they could be trusted, even Olivia. Nick would vouch for her. Nick would turn her. Nick would keep her safe.

But in the chance that these people_ weren't_ working for Jones – and perhaps these were the very people Jones was training him to kill – then they were in the wrong place entirely. And he needed to make an escape as fast as possible. With Olivia. But even with just the two of them, they were highly outmatched. Nick had no doubt in Olivia's abilities, even when she doubted herself, but they had no idea what weapons this facility possessed and how many soldiers were stationed here. And were there other Cortexiphan children, just like them, working for this facility? What was happening?

The daze was lifting. He felt himself return to his body.

"Where's Olive? Tell me where she is-"

Injections. More of the daze. More of the walking. More of the unknown.

* * *

Nick was in another painfully bright and painfully sanitary room. Everything was white to a sinister degree. It was unnatural, abnormal to be so white.

Nick looked down and saw three letters and four numbers across his chest. Nick looked up and saw four cameras at every corner of the room. Nick looked at the table and saw the letters S-C-P and a logo he had never seen before glaring right at him.

He was completely certain that this was not a Jones-run facility. Utterly and entirely certain.

The doors opened in front of him. Three people walked in and sat in the three empty chairs in front of him. They were holding three clipboards and each had three pens in their coat pockets.

Nick couldn't make out the faces of the doctors. Everything was still too foggy, too indistinct. If only Olive were here. She would've been able to see when he could not – to do anything that he could not.

"Where's Olive?" he repeated.

"I believe he's referring to SCP-1357," said one of the doctors. The voice was light, soft, almost friendly. "What a strange name."

"I NEED to know where Olive is." The fear in Nick started to swell in him again. "I need to know that she's alright. Please just let me see her. Or bring her to me. I'm begging you-"

"Bring in the Class B Sedatives," the doctor in the middle demanded. "I do not want another event on our hands."

"I believe its abilities are starting to take effect, sir," the doctor at the end added. Nick couldn't define the doctor's gender by their voice, but the voice's blob did seem smaller than the other two. "I feel anxious and I feel a desire to escape. And I desperately need to find whoever this 'Olive' is."

"Administer the sedatives, please. This session is not to test SCP-1375's abilities, but to find out more about its origins – how it came to be. Although please note the severity of these feelings and your proximity to the SCP, Doctor. We shall use that as a yardstick for the time being."

"I can't be more than two feet away from the subject, right, sir?"

"You honestly can't estimate the space on your own? I'm beginning to doubt your credentials for this."

'_What a smug piece of shit,'_ the darkness swore. _'Prick me all you want, you aren't getting an ounce of information out of me.'_

"My name… is Nick." It was hard to speak. The room was racing around him. And Nick felt as if the connection between his mind and his body had been severed. He couldn't control his limbs. He couldn't feel his limbs.

"Fine… _Nick_." It was the softer-voiced doctor. He was hesitant to call Nick by his name. "Tell us a bit about yourself."

"I refuse to say anything else."

"Perhaps we should try some of our truth serums?" the third doctor suggested.

"No." The commanding voice in the middle again. "I want to test SCP-1375's cooperation. If desperate measures arise, we will resort to them. I would rather not stress the subject."

Every passing moment with the commanding doctor stirred the darker Nick's flames – his hatred. _'As soon as I find a way out of this mess, he's the first one who's going to die. His brains will be on the floor. His screams will fill these empty hallways. They'll all run in fear of me. And they'll let us all go. I will relish the day when I can see his blood dripping out of him, painting all this white shit a delicious red. It's only a matter of time.'_

"But perhaps we should gratify it – just this once?" the ambiguous doctor asked, timidly. "Perhaps allowing it to see SCP-1357 will open it up to questioning?"

"We also don't know if it's a ploy to find out more about its surroundings," the middle doctor mused.  
"But I do agree – it may help ease the questioning process." The figure appeared to stand, or at least Nick assumed so, since the blob right in front of him appeared spontaneously larger. "You will be permitted to see SCP-1357's camera feed, but nothing else. You will not be permitted to go into its cell, nor will you be permitted to communicate with it. Do you understand?"

'_That's not good enough. How will you know that it's her?' _The voice decided to play devil's advocate. _'And I'd like to see Olivia, too. At least SHE'S not a complete failure.'_

'If it's her, I'll know. I'm confident.'

'_Are you? You're shaking. You're scared. You have no idea what you're doing. You're weak. You're not a soldier – you're a coward.'_

'Shut up. I thought you were helping me. Earlier you were helping me, why not now?'

'_I just want to get out of here. And your safety directly impacts me. That's all. It's not some goodness of my heart bullshit. I just want to get back to Jones – back to where I can be stronger and of use. Wallowing away in here having to watch you tremble and cower is making me _sick_. It's Jacksonville all over again, having to see you so frightened. It's __**disgusting**__.'_

"Fine," Nick agreed. Luckily the doctors hadn't noticed any change in Nick's demeanor, despite Nick's ongoing internal battle. "But I want to hear her speak. I need to know that she's alright."

"I'm sure that can be arranged. Fetch me the feed."

* * *

Olivia was lying on the bed the unknown agency had provided for her. She was calm, thanks to the sedatives. The first few times they had injected her, she put up quite a struggle – but that warranted much more sedation. Olivia soon learned to fake a catatonic state. The guards and the men in orange jumpsuits were quick to give her smaller doses and less frequent ones. It used to be every hour on the hour, but now the spaces were much farther in between. These new doses kept Olivia quite conscious and if the time came, she would be able to fight back with 70% of her strength.

However Olivia had no idea what time it was. The hourly doses had at least given her a sense of time – a sense of how long she was being held at present. But now, she had no such measuring system. And she still didn't know where she was, or where they were keeping Nick.

Her vision had cleared, but even that had proved useless. The guards that came in wore tinted helmets, making them indistinguishable and uniform. The orange-suited individuals were skittish to approach her, as if they were also being kept against their will. Unlike the familiar guards that dealt with her, Olivia never saw the same orange-suited person twice. And they all had been male. And they all had been terrified to get too close to her; they feared lingering near her for too long. As soon as they had administered the sedative, they sprinted hurriedly out. Some had even tripped over their feet, stumbling in pure terror from some woman just lying on a white bed. What had they been told? What hadn't they been told?

But it was strange. There were edible meals provided for her. Drinkable water provided for her. The living conditions were not lush, but they were certainly better than the cell the Other Side had held her in. That cell had been in pure solitude, devoid of any light or sustenance. But in some ways that cell was **better** than the cell that held her now. Because she KNEW why the Other Side was holding her there. She was an unknown invader to them who queerly resembled one of their agents. She was a threat to them that needed to be dealt with. She was a mystery that needed to be solved. There was an agenda and a purpose for her – an agenda and purpose Olivia soon figured out.

But she had no such insight here. And there was no Walternate figure in sight; no Walternate figure to stare at her menacingly, sans any compassion, while she pounded on the door and begged to be set free. Even the Other Side had showed her a human face – a human cause – as to why she was there. But here… everything was out of sight, unknown.

The cameras monitoring her every move made her both uneasy and also… secure. Uneasy because being watched was a practice that tortured her. Constant surveillance. Constant awareness. No privacy. She felt violated. She felt like a little girl again; she felt completely out of control, completely vulnerable to unseen predators forever with the upper hand. She was open to abuse, to the unknown grotesque possibilities that only Dr. Walter Bishop could theorize in his darker state. Olivia sought to regain control – which meant being free of what felt like a scientific prison.

But the constant surveillance let her know that she did, in fact, have a warden; there was, in fact, a purpose for her containment. There was someone – or some group of people – watching her from the feeds those cameras provided. She was not alone. She could have answers. She would have answers. She would make them talk. She would make them regret ever taking her against her will.

Creaking noises. It sounded like… focusing? Olivia turned her chin up to the nearest camera – the one perched right above her bed. It was focusing on her.

Olivia's eyes narrowed, "Who are you? Why am I here? Where is this? I want answers. I want to know where Nick is and I want to go back to where I belong."

Nothing.

Olivia scowled, "I think you're worried about the wrong person. You're fixating on Nick when you should be fixating on _me_."

* * *

Nick smiled – that was Olive for you. So strong. So unwaveringly strong, even when captured.

"What did she mean by 'you're worried about the wrong person?'" the softer-voiced doctor asked.

"Olive was always the strongest out of us."

"The two of you?" he pressed further.

"All of us." Nick swallowed. He was probably giving more information than he should.

'_You pathetic idiot. The more you give them, they more they'll expect. They'll torture it out of you. They'll try to torture it out of Olivia, but she'd never tell; she'll never waver. But they'll torture you and you'll spill __**everything.**__ You're an open book for them – a government's dream. You'll __**ruin**__ everything. You'll kill us all.'_ The darker voice continued to berate Nick. _'What happened to refusing to say anything? What happened to that strength? It left. Just like everything does. You're alone in this little cell. No one's coming to rescue you. Olive's locked up and I doubt she'll want to help you when you rat her out.'_

'I'm not going to say anything else. I promise.'

'_You always break your promises so don't give me that. Give me death. Give me the deaths of those doctors in front of you. I want to see their blood on the walls.'_

"Stop it. Don't make me hurt them." The words slipped from Nick's mind to his mouth.

"What was that?" the smallest doctor questioned.

'_But they're holding you captive. Don't you want to get out? __**Kill them**__. Break out of this place. Take it all by force.'_

"No. I won't do it. I won't kill them."

"Doctor, what is he saying?"

The commanding doctor seized control, "Get the Class A sedatives immediately. Get the restraints. Get the guards ready."

'_Maybe Olivia will actually like you if you actually grow a pair. She'll never like you because you're so weak. She's had to carry your dead weight ever since she was a child. She wants someone she can depend on – someone just as strong as she is.'_

"I won't do it and you can't make me." Tears formed in Nick's eyes. "Killing those people is what got me here in the first place."

'_No. They all died because you got depressed. Because someone – everyone – is happier than you.'_

Nick clenched his teeth. The darkness was right. And he felt the dark Nick return to the surface, bubbling over and clouding any judgment he had left. Strength and feeling returned to his limbs. And a darker gleam returned to his blue eyes.

"Get in here now, guards!" The commanding doctor shrieked. He took out a syringe from his coat pocket and stood up to oppose Nick. "Or perhaps I'll have to do this myself."

"_No. I doubt that."_ Nick grinned when his influence on the doctor became apparent. The outstretched arm that had been set on jabbing Nick was dangerously close to the doctor's own jugular. _"I'm tired of hearing you talk. I'm tired of watching your filth exist."_

"No. Stop." The third doctor looked up at him in pure terror, although too paralyzed to move. "You don't need to do this. I'm begging you. I don't want you to keep killing people. You don't know anything about these doctors. They might be able to help. They might be able to help _me_."

"_You're a disgusting pest that needs to be dealt with,"_ the darker Nick hissed, addressing the weaker Nick – addressing the third doctor. _"Let me do what I was born to do. I don't want you getting in the way any longer. __**I**__ will get us out of the mess you got us into. __**I**__will be worthy enough for-"_

But Nick was tackled from behind. And he felt another syringe slither into the base of his neck. And even more in his arms.

'When did those doors get there?' thoughts raced to 'What's going to happen to me now?' thoughts which raced to darker Nick's disapproving _'Even when I take control you manage to ruin everything'_ echoes in Nick's mind.

"We need a much more secure room," the commanding doctor panted, still visibly shaken from the incident. "We will keep it sedated. And we'll use those serums. I don't want that _thing_ to do this again."

* * *

Olivia's heart began to race. Something was wrong with Nick. Something was desperately wrong. She bolted up in bed, upright, sweating.

'They're taking him somewhere.' If she closed her eyes she could make out the shuffling of feet and the blurs of the guards.

They were taking him to a much larger room. Full of cabinets of vials and a table of syringes. They were strapping him down to a metal hospital bed. Nick was too sedated to even scream, but his fear was working its way through Olivia.

"Please. Don't do it. Please don't do anything to him," she whimpered. She knew that feeling. The feeling of helplessness before being operated on against your will. "Don't do anything to him." Painful flashbacks of her time on the Other Side with marks drawn all over her face and body, waiting for her skull to be cut into, flooded through her. **No**. She could not handle seeing another event like that again, directly or indirectly. Especially indirectly. She would NOT casually observe Nick being cut into; she would NOT leave him to the mercy of these people.

A long syringe was filled with a funny orange liquid. Then the syringe entered Nick's left arm.

"In five minutes you can get whatever you want out of him," the injector announced.

No. No this was not happening.

Olivia got out of bed only to meet white walls and white lights. And a white door.

"If he doesn't cooperate, I have this, sir." It looked like a machine used to administer electric shocks.

Olivia was hyperventilating – Nick was hyperventilating.

"Let him go," Olivia screamed, pounding against the door. "Let him go, damnit! Take _me_. Question _me_. Leave Nick out of this. Don't do this to him!"

But the guards came in and only administered sedatives. The screams subsided and were controlled, but the fear was not. Nick was in danger. Nick was in danger and everything was going black.

* * *

Nick faced the same commanding doctor, although the features of this doctor were distorting in front of him. Actually everything looked more like a Van Gogh painting than an interrogation room. What exactly had they given him?

"You're going to answer a series of questions as best you can. When we have enough information, we will let you go."

"To see Olive?" Even in this drugged state, Nick clung to Olivia. Especially in this drugged state, strapped down and defenseless, he needed her. If they promised him Olivia, he would tell them anything they needed to know. Anything. He just needed her. His voice was shaking now, but he could force himself to be stronger for her.

"Perhaps. Your cooperation will determine that." The doctor looked down at the clipboard, "What are you?"

"I'm like you, but…"

"But?" The doctor leaned in closer.

"I'm special. We're all special."

"We? Again with the we? Who are you referring to?"

"The rest of the children. There's more of us out there. I remember around sixteen of us, but I remember Olive the most."

"Tell us more about 'Olive.'"

"She's always been the strongest out of us. She was paired with me for the experiments."

"Experiments?" The doctor looked back at a variety of doctors seated behind him. Nick couldn't make any of them out at the moment. And beyond the doctor blobs he only saw swirls of colors. "What kind of experiments?"

"Children are our greatest resources – especially in times of war. We were prepared. We were given abilities to help us fight."

"Who prepared you and what exactly did they do?"

"We were given Cortexiphan. It opens up all the possibilities of the mind – that's what Dr. Bell told us. It allows us to do things normal people can't." Nick wanted to stop talking, but he just couldn't. The words continued to flow out of him. It was endless.

"Full name, please."

"Dr. William Bell. And Dr. Walter Bishop."

A deafening voice filled the room, _**"That's impossible. It is lying. Dr. Walter Bishop conducted no such research."**_

Nick shook his head. "They did. In Jacksonville, Florida. It was an old military base. They gave it to us, tested its effects, and recorded everything. But eventually it was all shut down. And we all went our separate ways. Olivia and I only recently found each other again."

"_**Lies. There were no such operations in Jacksonville. Are you certain the correct dosage was given, Dr. Hendricks?"**_

"Yes, sir. The proper dosage was administered."

"_**Fine. Proceed with the questioning, but I am skeptical as to the verity of SCP-1375's statements."**_

Dr. Hendricks' commanding and controlling demeanor seemed to have diminished after the arrival of the booming voice. He swallowed, mouth twitching, "Tell us more, _Nick_."

"The Cortexiphan works differently in all of us. I became a reverse-empath. Some can start fires. Some can bend metal. Some can do much more."

"And what about SCP-13 – I mean, _Olive_. You keep repeating how she is the strongest. What makes her so strong?"

"Olive always passed the tests they gave us. Each one. Dr. Bishop said that she was destined to do great things. And he believed that she would be able to save our universe."

"_**That shall be all. Bring in SCP-1357 for questioning. I believe 'Olive' will be a lot more cooperative than SCP-1375. Keep SCP-1375 heavily sedated. Return it to its containment cell."**_

"Sir we just received word that SCP-1357 was causing disturbances in its cell. It seemed to _know_ that SCP-1375 was being questioned. Before the guards took action, it begged for everything to stop. To take 'her' instead. To leave 'him' out of it." A younger doctor with scruffy hair and thick glasses looked up to the speaker, "What does this mean, sir?"

"_**It means SCP-1357 better give us answers. But this 'pairing' SCP-1375 spoke of could be true. The two of them could have a bond between them. That would explain the behavior SCP-1357 was exhibiting before their discovery event. The more I think about it, the more I need to hear from SCP-1357."**_

"But does that mean everything else SCP-1375 was true?"

"_**I am uncertain. But I have many reliable sources dealing with Dr. Walter Bishop and I guarantee that he did not conduct such research. I am unfamiliar with this William Bell."**_

"SCP-1357 can be transported safely, but it will be some time before the heavier sedatives wear off."

"_**We will wait, Dr. Kwon."**_

* * *

**Item #:** SCP-1375

**Object Class:** Euclid

**Special Containment Procedures:** SCP-1375 is to be contained i meter room and must be sedated at all times. While in its containment cell, security guards must administer Class B sedatives every hour. Failure to apply these procedures will leave those in direct contact with SCP-1375 in danger of being controlled. Food and water must be provided three times a day. Direct and sustained contact with SCP-1375 is prohibited unless for research purposes authorized by at least 5 members of O5 Command.

**Transportation Procedures:** While SCP-1375 is being transported from its cell to a research facility, the highest sedatives must be used at all times. Upon entering SCP-1375's cell, Class A sedatives must be administered immediately and must continue to be administered until SCP-1375 is docile and cooperative enough to move without incident. Those transporting and those having any other form of contact with the SCP must have Class A sedatives on them at all times. Once SCP-1375 has been successfully transferred to a secure research room, sedatives given to SCP-1375 will be lowered to Class C or D, depending on the manor of such research. Once questioning and research have finished, repeat transportation procedures.

**Description:** SCP-1375 is a Caucasian male of average height with blond hair and blue eyes. It is believed SCP-1375 is a reverse-empath, with the capability of transferring its emotions to those around it. SCP-1375 is emotionally unstable and highly suicidal. It is also prone to self-hatred and self-harm. The transferring of these emotions commonly results in the deaths of those around it. The range of these abilities and whether only negative emotions transfer to human hosts is unknown.

According to SCP-1375, the cause of its abilities is a substance named Cortexiphan. Its chemical make-up, way of administration, and amount needed to trigger such abilities are unknown. According to SCP-1375, SCP-1357, who was seen with the subject before its containment, also has Cortexiphan in its system. According to SCP-1375, the two SCPs were paired together in childhood during the Cortexiphan experiments, forming a bond between them. The strength and specifics of this bond are unknown. Whether SCP-1357 truly has the ability to control SCP-1375 is also unknown.

**Note-01:** Not much is known about SCP-1375 at present time, which makes this SCP highly dangerous.

Basically we have no idea what we're doing, people. Look sharp and stay sharp. Of course all these files are subject to change, too, once we get more information. When in doubt, sedate. Don't try to be a hero. – Dr. ████

**[[THE INFORMATION BELOW IS FOR PERSONNEL WITH LEVEL 4 CLEARANCE AND ABOVE ONLY]]**

**Note-02:** According to SCP-1375, there are more children who have been given Cortexiphan. The Foundation requires additional information before further containment procedures are needed.

Further research is essential before we can proceed. I have never heard of Cortexiphan nor the Doctors [DATA REDACTED] involved in such research. Answers from SCP-1357 are vital before we take any course of action. – **O5-2**


	5. SCP-1357

**SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"**

**Chapter 5: SCP-1357**

* * *

**Disclaimers:** During the writing process, all of the SCP number selections I have used were / are vacant. I don't intend to publish this on the wiki, so if the series number is now taken… whatever. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.

Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. & each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. & the SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.

Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: _Bob_. Over Somewhere Else: **Bob.**

**Author's Notes:** Jeez writing SCP-verse things in the manor of an actual story is hard. & don't even get me started on actual files. Ugh. I almost can't wait until I can go back into the Fringe-verses. Writing that is SO MUCH EASIER YOU CAN'T EVEN UNDERSTAND.

* * *

**Item #:** SCP-1357

**Object Class:** Euclid

**Special Containment Procedures:** SCP-1357 is to be contained i meter room and must be sedated at all times. While in its containment cell, security guards must administer Class B sedatives every hour. Failure to apply these procedures will bear unknown consequences at this time. Food and water must be provided three times a day. Direct and sustained contact with SCP-1357 is prohibited unless for research purposes authorized by at least 5 members of O5 Command.

**Transportation Procedures:** While SCP-1357 is being transported from its cell to a research facility, Class A sedatives must be used at all times. Upon entering SCP-1357's cell, sedatives must be administered immediately and must continue until SCP-1357 is docile and cooperative enough to move without incident. Those transporting and those having any other form of contact with the SCP must have Class A sedatives on them at all times. Once SCP-1357 has been successfully transferred to a secure research room, sedatives given to SCP-1357 will be lowered to Class C or D, depending on the manor of such research. Once questioning and research have finished, repeat transportation procedures.

**Description:** SCP-1357 is a Caucasian female of average height with blonde hair and hazel eyes. SCP-1357, according to SCP-1375, has the substance Cortexiphan in its system, triggering abilities. SCP-1357's abilities, however, are unknown at this time.

According to SCP-1375, the two SCPs were paired together in childhood during the Cortexiphan experiments, forming a bond between them. The strength and specifics of this 'bond' are unknown. Whether SCP-1357 truly has the ability to control SCP-1375 is also unknown.

SCP-1357 has expressed care for human life, especially in the event of [DATA REDACTED]. The extent of these feelings are unknown.

**Note-01:** Not much is known about SCP-1357 at present time, which makes this SCP highly dangerous.

Basically we have no idea what we're doing, people. Look sharp and stay sharp. Of course all these files are subject to change, too, once we get more information. When in doubt, sedate. Don't try to be a hero. – Dr. ████

**[[THE INFORMATION BELOW IS FOR PERSONNEL WITH LEVEL 4 CLEARANCE AND ABOVE ONLY]]**

**Note-02:** According to SCP-1375, there are more children who have been given Cortexiphan. The Foundation requires additional information before further containment procedures are needed.

Further research is essential before we can proceed. I have never heard of Cortexiphan nor the Doctors [DATA REDACTED] involved in such research. Answers from SCP-1357 are vital before we take any course of action. – ** O5-2**

* * *

In hindsight, causing such a scene over Nick was probably foolish. Because now Olivia was in an even worse situation than before. Instead of being in her cell, she was on a stretcher headed to who knows where. And she was sedated to the point of barely being conscious. And the link with Nick seemed to be severed. Because no matter how hard she concentrated, she could not sense where he was or how he was.

Olivia closed her eyes. She meant to only for a short while. But when she opened them, she was in the same interrogation room she remembered from Nick's thoughts. She saw the same vials, the same syringes, the same threatening electro-shock device. She even saw the same panel of doctors with their coats and their pens.

"Where… where am I?" Her voice was weak, so weak it was foreign to her. "What… what are you doing to me?"

"My name is Dr. Hendricks. Things did not go well with your counterpart. You are being questioned so that we can better determine your status." The man seemed very stiff, not as menacing as the glimpses she had seen from Nick. He seemed on edge, nervous – the kind of nervousness she saw when people's jobs or lives were on the line.

"What did Nick tell you?" Olivia was curious how much they were able to get out of him. And she truly needed to know what they knew. She needed to know if tailoring her answers and hiding facts were necessary. Or if she could trust them enough to be open with them, but she doubted that option.

"SCP-1375 told us about Cortexiphan and about Dr. Bishop and Dr. Bell. It did not give us specifics, but SCP-1375 mentioned that a facility in Jacksonville was experimenting with Cortexiphan. And that it gave its test subjects various abilities." Dr. Hendricks looked down at his clipboard, more for guidance and less for reciting information, "SCP-1375 repeated that you were the strongest out of all of the children given Cortexiphan."

"That's all?" That wasn't much.

"That's all," Dr. Hendricks echoed.

"Will you be injecting me with the same thing you injected him?"

"That depends on your cooperation. I'm not sure if you are aware, but SCP-1375 controlled me earlier. He nearly forced me to dig my jugular out with a syringe. Before that, he was in quite a mood, bickering with himself, begging himself not to kill me and my colleagues. And before the serum was administered, he was determined to stay silent." Dr. Hendricks smoothed out the wrinkles in his coat with his white hands, "We'd rather not have to resort to such measures. We'd rather you just us tell the truth. Some of us believe that SCP-1375 was not entirely truthful."

"Everything he said is correct," Olivia stated. "But I won't tell you anything else unless you get me out of these restraints. And unless you tell me a bit about yourselves." Olivia would test the limits of their leniency. How desperately did they need this information? How essential was it to their plans?

Dr. Hendricks glanced, worriedly, back at his partners.

"_**Proceed, Dr. Hendricks,"**_ a loud voice boomed. It sounded apathetic and possibly female.

The guards on either side of Olivia untied her from her restraints and helped her sit up.

"Will the sedatives be wearing off soon? I'm not sure I'll be able to give you 100% accurate information if I'm not fully aware." Olivia wanted to smirk at this Dr. Hendricks, but she stifled it down. Enraging him did not seem to be the best course of action. "Now tell me what your company wants."

"For starters…" Dr. Hendricks interrupted himself with a fit of laughter. Olivia couldn't help but detect a tone of condescension in his high pitched inhaling and exhaling of air. "This is not a company; this is a foundation. This is the SCP Foundation and it was created to secure and contain scientific anomalies, study those anomalies, and protect the larger human population from such anomalies. These anomalies are also called SCPs."

"You are correct to call me an anomaly, but I'm no SCP," Olivia smiled. "I'm just like you, but with some additional… features."

"Would you care to tell us about those features?"

"Unfortunately for you, I don't remember the trials. Unlike Nick, I don't remember the specifics of what Dr. Bell and Dr. Bishop did to me. In fact I only recently realized that I was treated with Cortexiphan. It was only in the past few years that I tested positive and started seeing… differences."

"What are those differences?"

Olivia needed to tread lightly. She would expose a little, but not too much. Just give them a taste. Just give them a speck to work with. She would deal with the consequences later. She did not trust this SCP Foundation. It seemed all too much like Massive Dynamic, given a blind eye by the government to do whatever it pleased. Who knew what kind of cover-ups and lies were spread by this organization. Who knew which lives were truly at stake and who truly were in the balance.

"Cortexiphan mainly works with human perception – how we can see and change the reality around us. Cortexiphan quite literally works on the possibilities of the mind. We can push past previously conceived limitations to achieve… things." Perhaps she had said too much? "Cortexiphan truly has changed my understanding of the world. My awareness has widened. I can hear things and see things normal humans can't."

"Like what?" Dr. Hendricks' patience seemed to be tested. He kept scratching his left wrist and clenching and unclenching his jaw. "What things? Please be more specific."

But how specific did Olivia want to go? How far did she want to lead them down Walter Bishop and William Bell's rabbit hole? She did not want any of them getting delusions of grandeur. In the event that they HAD lied to her, and that this foundation wasn't about protecting but really war-mongering, she would withhold plenty.

Plus she doubted they would believe her if she dropped that she was from another universe. Perhaps if the time came… but not yet. These doctors couldn't even make up their minds if Cortexiphan was real or not. But it's not like Olivia could tell them how to synthesize the compounds. And it's not like she wanted to. If they got smart, they would do what the Other Side did – try to operate on her brain; try to see what made her truly special. But if the SCP Foundation was more about securing and containing, perhaps not. Perhaps they truly were more of an "imprison first, ask questions later" kind of operation. Perhaps that would work to her advantage – buy her enough time to get the two of them out of there. Olivia would play along with their little game, on her own terms of course.

"Is supersonic hearing interesting enough for your doctor friends behind you?" Olivia smiled, but it actually resembled more of a sneer. "Even now I can hone in on each of their individual heart beats. Someone's watch isn't completely in sync with the rest. There's a fly skittering across the wall behind you all and I can hear every little move it makes."

"What else?" Even though the doctors behind Hendricks were nodding and furiously writing away, Dr. Hendricks was not so easily impressed.

"Cortexiphan can sometimes allow me to see different possibilities – different outcomes of futures." She would graze parallel universes without actually spelling it out. She would only scratch the surface. "I can 'jump' between these outcomes, although not always at will. I've seen different outcomes of the people I know. In these possible futures, they have made different choices and thus have led different lives."

"Explain more about this ability, SCP-1357." Dr. Hendricks leaned in.

She scowled at what seemed nothing more but a prison number, even worse than Subject 13. "It's hard for me to explain, since I can't always control it. I'll get flashes – glimpses – without consciously wanting it." Olivia licked her lips, which were getting quite chapped. "I can move some metal objects, but only certain objects that I feel bonded to." She dared not mention her connection to the machine Peter operated, which had the power to destroy universes. She dared not mention that kind of technology to these people at all.

"Interesting. So you and SCP-1375… were not provided adequate 'training' to control these abilities? Since you have expressed that you cannot always control yours, and SCP-1375 does not seem to always be in control of his."

"It's a very gradual process. And after we were removed from Jacksonville, the Cortexiphan remained dormant in our systems. We had to be activated."

"Ah. And do tell what that process entails."

In the event that there WAS Cortexiphan in this universe, the information Olivia was about to disclose would be crucial. However she would have to assume that they WERE truly a protective agency – more like a Fringe division and less like a rogue government entity. Perhaps this establishment truly _was_ the Fringe division of this universe, but it was too early to tell. "To some groups, we are soldiers – potential soldiers. But before we can even be labeled soldiers, we are recruits that need to be activated." Olivia carefully left out the ZFT and the specifics of its manifesto. "The activation process, for me, was very rushed and I believe it's varied. I do not know how Nick was activated, nor how other children have been activated, but I was given a test. I had to turn off a series of light bulbs by only using my mind." Olivia was going to tell them about how she was able to save people with that ability, by stopping David Robert Jones' bomb, but she resisted. Saying that she was from the FBI would cause this SCP Foundation to poke around at her history – the **Olivia Dunham** of this universe's history. For all the SCP Foundation knew, she was just Olivia, sometimes Olive. And that was all she would tell them and all they would know. **Olivia's **safety did not need to be put at risk.

"Let me play out a hypothetical scenario," Dr. Hendricks put his clipboard down and folded his arms across his lap. "Let's say this Cortexiphan substance is real. Let's say that there WERE drug trials down in Jacksonville. Let's say that there **are** other children like you running around. Is it safe to say that most of them have not been activated?"

Olivia wanted to tell them that they had nothing to worry about, but she honestly didn't know herself. She did not know if the Walter Bishop and the William Bell of this universe had conducted trials together or separately. Or if someone else had discovered Cortexiphan and carried out with drug trials. She did not know if Cortexiphan existed in this universe or not. In theory, if their abilities lay dormant, perhaps not. But who's to say that another person, a nobody, wouldn't run around activating all the dormant children for whatever purposes? It had happened in her universe, why not here?

She answered with "I'm not quite sure, Dr. Hendricks. Again, I was only a subject. And I was only a child."

"Yes, of course." Dr. Hendricks stroked the faint whispers of white hair on his chin that could only tentatively be labeled a beard. "Are there any additional questions from my colleagues behind me?"

"Olivia-" A woman with purple lipstick began before she was interrupted.

"_SCP-1357_, Dr. Montgomery," Dr. Hendricks warned. "Unless you want to elicit a certain response, you will address the SCP by its proper numbering system. It may look humanoid, but it is **not **one of us. Please follow standard protocol."

Olivia frowned. Even the Fringe Division had never stooped so low, even with the most removed of humanoid objects. They were all still human. And if these SCP people didn't think** she** was human, what would they think of the Observers and their unknown ways? What would they think of their strange language, eating habits, and ability to time travel? What of their emotionless speech, their sideways motions of the head, their confusion with the human condition?

"SCP-1357," Dr. Montgomery began again. She had a pleasant, soothing voice. "Can you expand on the bond you share with SCP-1375? Could you explain why he calls you 'Olive?'"

"Before I met Nick a few years ago, no one had referred to me as Olive. But it turns out, that was my name during the drug trials. Nick is the only person who still calls me that."

"So only SCP-1357 is allowed to?"

"No. Nick _chooses_ to. We were paired together by the team… for reasons I don't know. I just know that a buddy system made it easier for us to go through it all. Nick and I formed an emotional bond and a psychic link during that time. It only recently reconnected."

"How recently?"

"I met Nick in…" Olivia had to be careful to keep the FBI information out. But then again, this new Nick did not remember the initial incident at the top of the building. She wouldn't have to pull out lie after lie; she could tell the truth this time. "I was taking a walk. And I saw Nick on a park bench. He looked familiar. But even before that… I felt drawn to this park. I knew that something was there, something important. And there he was, just sitting there. He remembered me, called me Olive. This was probably…" How long had she been in this place? "It was only a few days before you _captured_ us." She chose to use the word captured above anything else.

"We didn't capture you," Dr. Montgomery frowned. "We only wish to-"

"That's enough, Dr. Montgomery," Dr. Hendricks growled back at her. "You are still new and learning, I understand that. This is your first assignment, I understand that, but you must take a neutral approach to this humanoid SCP or I will have you transferred. Is that understood?"

'This side of Hendricks must have troubled Nick, too,' Olivia couldn't help but wonder. 'He seems two-faced. Something shook him, caught him off guard, but now he's reverting back to whatever his version of normal is.'

"Any other questions before we begin transportation procedures?" Hendricks continued to look around.

"I do." The man with the thick black glasses and the ruffled brown hair looked at Olivia.

"Ah yes, Dr. _Kwon_." Dr. Hendricks rolled his eyes – a motion that did not go undetected by Olivia. "Proceed."

This Dr. Kwon smirked, as if he had seen his effect on Dr. Hendricks himself. "Before SCP-1375 was administered our truth serum, and during the procedure, you expressed pain. What exactly was happening between the two of you? What did you see? What did you hear?"

"It was the bond between us, I guess. It's especially strengthened when we're in danger or under stress. I was able to find Nick in the park because he was feeling particularly down. I was able to experience what was happening to Nick, down to his breathing, because he was terrified. He was sedated and restrained and you **still** chose to inject him with something." Olivia's face wore pure disgust, "What kind of facility is this? And don't give me shit about the ends justifying the means. Nick is a _person_, not a science experiment – like everyone wants you to believe. We are human beings. We love and we protect those we love."

"Is love another trigger for the bond?" Dr. Kwon looked up from behind those glasses with an expression Olivia couldn't quite place.

"On his end, yes. He feels much more strongly for me than I do for him."

"Meaning?" She could've sworn Dr. Kwon was smiling.

"He's always remembered me from Jacksonville. And he's always needed me since. I forgot about everything – including him. And I still don't remember much, even after reuniting with him. My mind is blank. He has a lot more about me to draw from."

"I see. That will be all."

"_**This will conclude today's research session. Bring SCP-1357 back to its containment cell. Use the Class D sedatives." **_The apathetic female voice droned again. _**"The O5 will determine when the next research session will be. In the meantime, the O5 will allow the two SCPs to be contained together – in a larger space: a seven-by-seven meter room with the same daily and hourly provisions originally listed. SCP-1375 has already been safely transported there. The O5 believe that this will deter SCP-1375's hostility and will foster needed cooperation without desperate measures. The Foundation may also be able to see the bond between the two SCPs in a more natural setting."**_

Olivia was a bit relieved to hear that the two of them would be together again. Olivia would be able to survive apart from Nick, but Nick would be lost without her. They were lucky that Nick had made it this far without any worse incidents. The sedatives really were saving the Foundation's ass.

But the sedatives were still needed to transport Olivia and she didn't want that. She wanted the clarity and security that she was experiencing now. She did not want to go back into the daze of the unknown. She would not be swimming in a drugged state again.

"I can walk myself," Olivia tried to reason with the guards approaching her from all sides. "There's no need for this-"

"Oh yes there is," Dr. Hendricks gave her a smile that was quite unsettling. "We're not taking any more chances with the two of you ever again."

* * *

The doctors had made the mistake of talking around her during transport. She was conscious enough to hear them, even conscious enough to remember their words.

"I guess this means we'll have to rewrite all of their files, won't it?"

"But to what? If we assume that the true SCP event is the Cortexiphan, then we merely incorporate the two humanoid SCPs into that file." Olivia recognized the voice of the younger doctor with the glasses – that Dr. Kwon man.

"But not much is given about Cortexiphan. It's a chemical compound that's entirely unknown." She didn't recognize this person. "I mean we don't even know what it looks like. Is it a pill? Is it a liquid? For all we know it could've been given to them in a breakfast cereal."

Dr. Kwon again. "What else can we do? They ARE linked. They're not separate events, like we thought they were. And they both said it themselves – there are **more** of them out there. And both SCPs repeated that they feel a bond to each other. They are linked. What if they're all linked to each other?" He started to get eager – eager to a degree that worried Olivia. "We soon may have a whole facility devoted just to contain people with Cortexiphan." He paused, "But when should the task forces be alerted? When should they start to take action?"

"I'm not sure. You know that's not a decision we can make." This was another doctor.

"The O5 sure have a lot to consider." Also an unknown doctor. "And has O5-2 ever been so involved in an event before?"

"How can you make out their names? You have them all memorized matching their numbers? How can you be so sure?" The female doctor from before – Dr. Montgomery.

Dr. Kwon chuckled lightly, "You're still new here, Dr. Montgomery; you'll make the adjustment. Also I have to apologize for Dr. Hendricks' behavior. He hasn't been the same ever since he's _moved projects_." He cleared his throat, as if staying away from the subject. "But I haven't heard every O5, even in my six years of being here. But O5-2 was _vehement_ that the trials had never taken place. How does he know that? Was Doctor Bishop a close colleague of his? Or a friend? How could he be SO entirely certain?"

"Yeah. He didn't even entertain the possibility of it happening. It's bizarre."

Dr. Kwon was on a roll. "And how he advised that we need to advance with **absolute** skepticism. Are we supposed to trust absolutely _nothing_ any of the SCPs say? How will we make any progress? If we can't find the doctors responsible – and of course O5-2 would say IF there are doctors responsible – how will we be able to find the other children? How will we have better information to containing and controlling them? It seems so… counter-intuitive." He gasped, "Of course don't tell anyone I said this. They'll terminate me for sure."

"Termination?" Dr. Montgomery laughed. "I thought that was only something they did to the Class-D personnel – the prisoners."

"Oh no," Dr. Kwon's energetic voice was now grave. Any eagerness he once had had been replaced with hushed formality. "Anyone can be terminated at any time for breaking protocol. The S, C, and P in SCP must be maintained at all times."

If Olivia hadn't been sedated, she would have shivered. Using prisoners to do who knows what? Terminating anyone who moved the slightest bit out of turn? This was no normal government agency. This was something larger, something larger entirely.

She needed to get out. She did not trust this _SCP Foundation_.


	6. SCP-1428

**SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"**

**Chapter 6: SCP-1428**

* * *

**Disclaimers:** During the writing process, all of the SCP number selections I have used were / are vacant. I don't intend to publish this on the wiki, so if the series number is now taken… meh kewl story, bro. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.

Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. Each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. The SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.

Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: _Bob_. Over Somewhere Else: **Bob. **

**Author's Notes:** I guess there's a reason that AU crossovers are uncommon. & there's another reason why those crossovers aren't always successful.

Of course my measure of success is just going to be readable & realistic in terms of each universe. I don't really expect thousands upon thousands of hits for this shit. If I wanted popularity, I would've attempted a Superwholock crossover. Although I do have a good number of ideas for Supernatural & Fringe or Superfringe. Some of the characters are just so similar to each other… but this is not the fic for that.

Oh & if you haven't already noticed, shit is about to get REAL.

* * *

_Cortexichildren_

**Item #:** SCP-1428

**Object Class:** Euclid

**Special Containment Procedures:** The two humanoid hosts, SCP-1428-1 and SCP-1428-2, are to be contained i meter room and must be sedated at all times. Security guards must administer Class B sedatives every hour. Failure to apply these procedures will leave those in direct contact with SCP-1428-1 vulnerable to its empathic manipulation and will leave SCP-1428-2 conscious enough to plan their escape. Food and water must be provided three times a day. Direct and sustained contact with SCP-1428-1 or SCP-1428-2 is prohibited unless for research purposes authorized by at least 3 members of O5 Command. Separation of the two SCPs is forbidden unless authorized by at least 5 members of O5 Command. In the event of unauthorized separation, SCP-1428-1 must be reunited with SCP-1428-2 as soon as possible, in order to minimize a massive empathic event.

**Transportation Procedures:** While SCP-1428-1 and / or SCP-1428-2 are being transported from their cell to a research facility, the highest sedatives must be used at all times. Upon entering the cell, Class A sedatives must be administered immediately and must continue to be administered until the SCP/s is docile and cooperative enough to move without incident. Those transporting and those having any other form of contact with the SCP/s must have Class A sedatives on them at all times. Once the SCP/s has been successfully transferred to a secure research room, sedatives given to SCP/s will be lowered to Class C or D, depending on the manor of such research. Once questioning and research have finished, repeat transportation procedures.

**Description:** SCP-1428 is an unknown chemical substance called Cortexiphan. The Foundation assumes that it is man-made, but the exact nature of its ingredients is unknown at present time.

SCP-1428 was given to SCP-1428-1 and SCP-1428-2 as children [exact ages unknown] during the drug trials [DATA REDACTED]. The administering and activation of SCP-1428 spawned the abilities SCP-1428-1 and SCP-1428-2 now possess. However the way of administration, amount needed to trigger the onset of such abilities, and the specifics of the activation process are unknown.

SCP-1428, according to SCP-1428-2, acts on the host's perception, allowing for the control of the reality around it. It widens the possibilities and awareness of each host's mind uniquely, which may explain the stark differences between SCP-1428-1 and SCP-1428-2. Although despite their differences [or perhaps because of them], during the drug trials, SCP-1428-1 and SCP-1428-2 were paired together, forming a psychic bond. The strength and specifics of this bond are unknown, but according to SCP-1428-2, it can sense SCP-1428-1's presence and emotional state, especially in times of stress. SCP-1428-1, before dual containment had been granted, expressed a frantic desire to be reunited with SCP-1428-2. Both SCPs, while separated, frequently demanded to know where the other was held and expressed great concern in the other's welfare. Since their dual containment, both SCPs appear to be more relaxed and less prone to violent disruptions.

SCP-1428-1 is a white male of average height with blond hair and blue eyes. It refers to itself as "Nick." SCP-1428-1 is a reverse-empath, with the capability of transferring its emotions to those around it. SCP-1428-1 is emotionally unstable and highly suicidal. It is prone to self-hatred and self-harm, which are highly dangerous when they are transferred to innocents around it. Upon time of containment, SCP-1428-1's suicidal state caused [DATA REDACTED]. The range of these abilities and whether only negative emotions can transfer to humans around it is unknown.

SCP-1428-2 is a white female of average height with blonde hair and hazel eyes. It refers to itself as "Olivia." According to SCP-1428-1, SCP-1428-2 is the stronger of the two. The exact specifics of SCP-1428-2's abilities are unknown, but according to it, SCP-1428-2 possesses: abnormal acute hearing; the power to manipulate certain metals; and the ability to see different outcomes and potential futures. SCP-1428-2 only gave vague information on its last ability, but it also has expressed that it lacks adequate control of this ability.

During the event [DATA REDACTED], SCP-1428-2 was seen trying to calm SCP-1428-1 down from its suicidal state. However, SCP-1428-2 failed, resulting in [DATA REDACTED]. During this event, SCP-1428-2 expressed concern for the innocent people affected. However, the extent of these feelings is unknown.

**Note-01:** Not much is known about each humanoid host of SCP-1428. Great caution must be used.

**[[THE INFORMATION BELOW IS FOR PERSONNEL WITH LEVEL 4 CLEARANCE AND ABOVE ONLY]]**

**Addendum-01:** According to SCP-1482-1, there are more children who have been given Cortexiphan. The Foundation requires further research before additional containment procedures are warranted.

**Addendum-02:** SCP-1482-1 must never reach another full empathic event. Attached is a section of a transcribed copy of Agent S while securing both SCPs:

Subjects appeared to be searching for something they needed; they did not find it. [SCP-1428-1] began to experience great distress… [DATA REDACTED]. The subjects began to talk about [DATA REDACTED]. Viewing this person caused great distress to [SCP-1428-1]. [SCP-1428-1] is now expressing suicidal feelings. These suicidal feelings seemed to have spread to all those around it. Innocents that were calm have begun to act irrationally and erratically. Innocents are stabbing themselves with glass, smashing their heads against the ground, swallowing toxic chemicals sold in stores, driving cars into buildings. … Situation is escalating-

I'm much more interested in this Cortexiphan substance than the two hosts. I see a possibility of a true project here that might put the Olympia Project to shame. Especially with all those technical difficulties. Just think of the possibilities… but how to continue? How to get more information? I'm not sure how we'll be able to pry the SCPs open. SCP-1428-2 seems especially _stubborn_. **– Dr. Kwon**

I'll get them to talk. Don't you worry.** – Dr. Hendricks**

* * *

"Olive?!" Nick bolted out of bed, upright and sweating.

"I'm here, Nick." Olivia's voice was hoarse. She hadn't gotten any sleep. She _refused_ to sleep. She refused to let her guard down amidst these scientists and scoundrels.

But it was odd. The orange-suited individuals stopped coming after Nick fell asleep last night. And all she had to do was lie in her bed and pretend to do the same. She didn't even see the cameras move. She didn't even hear the lenses focus in on her face. They didn't even check to make sure her eyes were closed. What a rookie mistake for an establishment that seemed so precise.

But having prisoners doing your dirty work wasn't always precise. And the inexperience of Dr. Montgomery didn't seem precise. And Dr. Hendricks' moods were the exact opposite of how a precise, removed, and collected doctor should be. He certainly was no Dr. Walter Bishop circa the Cortexiphan trials. He resembled the present Walter Bishop much more.

"Olive! When did you get here? The last thing I remember is…" Nick shuddered.

Olivia walked over to him and sat on his bed. "It's alright. You don't have to say anything. They questioned me, too."

"What did you tell them?"

"Not much." She would've told Nick more, but she knew that there were cameras galore in their room. And telepathy seemed too out of reach at the moment. Everything Cortexiphan-related seemed too out of reach. She needed a gun. A gun was reliable. A gun would get them out of here, not powers that she was still struggling to control.

Which was odd, too. She remembered the true timeline. She remembered her time on the Other Side crossing over multiple times. She remembered it all… yet it did nothing to help her. She felt helpless, right back at square one when she had to face the light test for the first time.

Luckily for her, these doctors weren't like David Robert Jones. This was newer to them than it was for her. Olivia could much more easily fake her way through this SCP Foundation than she ever could with Jones and his agents. But these doctors, she couldn't quite underestimate them. That Dr. Kwon seemed particularly bright. It would be hard to fool him.

Hendricks was another matter entirely. If she pressed the right buttons, he could do wonders for them… or against them. He was a wild card.

"How did you sleep?" Olivia asked. She didn't know what to say. How could you put up a false sense of normalcy when you were in containment cell?

"I don't remember. Which is good." Nick smiled, "Whenever I go to sleep, even if it's a nap, I have bad dreams. When we were little, whenever I saw you… I would forget. And I forgot those dreams I just had. So everything's okay. Everything's safe."

"That's good to hear," Olivia smiled back. "But I'm not sure how safe I can keep you in _here_, Nick."

"Olive behind y-!"

* * *

Olivia woke to find herself in the midst of another hazy fog.

She went into panic mode. Where was she? Where was this? What had just happened? Were all of her organs still in her body? Was her brain still relatively untouched? Had they found the Cortexiphan in her system? Were innocent people safe? Were they all in danger?

She looked down. Good, she was just in bed. She looked over. Good, Nick was just in bed.

"You fell asleep," he stated, monotone and slurring. Nick looked to be in a fog himself. His blue eyes were glazed over, looking at the white walls as if they contained the wonders of the universe [they didn't.] "They said they'll be moving us soon."

"Do you know where?"

"No."

Not good.

* * *

At least they would be questioned together. Good; Olivia would do the talking. She knew exactly what to say – nothing. She had given them enough information. If some drastic cosmic event involving David Roberts Jones arose, she would tell them the secrets of the universes. She would tell them about universe-jumping and the existence of parallel worlds. She would tell them the full extent of their powers. She would tell them as much as she consciously could about Dr. Bishop's research, and she would tell them the multiple ways to dig into her subconscious. But then and only then.

Olivia and Nick had been handcuffed together [she didn't know why] and to the respective chairs they were sitting in. Like last session, there was a panel of three doctors before them, and a larger gathering behind those three. Olivia recognized Dr. Kwon and Dr. Hendricks. But then there was a woman, just moving to sit down in between the two of doctors. She was blonde. She had curly hair. She wore red lipstick the color of blood. There was something about her Olivia couldn't quite place.

"This is Dr. Warren," Dr. Kwon motioned to the blonde doctor. "She has also been assigned to this… project."

Dr. Warren… where had Olivia heard that name before? Her mind was still too fuzzy from all of the drugs. It sounded familiar. Her face was familiar. Everything about her was familiar. Just… how did everything add up?

"Dr. Warren," Olivia began. "Did you, perhaps, know Dr. Bishop? Have you worked with him before?" It was worth a try.

"Where did you get that idea?" Dr. Warren tilted her head and gave Olivia an amused smile with her red lips. "No, I've never met Dr. Bishop, or any Dr. Bishop for that matter. I assume you are referring to the same Dr. Bishop who supposedly headed this Cortexiphan research?"

"I am." Olivia knew her face. Dr. Bishop's deceased lab assistant. Olivia remembered seeing a picture of her. She matched perfectly.

But the years… it didn't add up. Dr. Warren had been Dr. Bishop's lab assistant when Peter was a boy – when she was a girl. But the Dr. Warren in front of her looked just as young as she did in the picture, if not younger. What could have caused this discrepancy? How different _was_ this universe from the other two?

Olivia was shaken, confused. Nick seemed to notice this in her, when the doctors could not.

He whispered, "Olive, are you going to be alright?"

"Y-yeah. I'll be fine, Nick."

Nick knew it was a lie, but he didn't say anything, at least not directly. He turned to her and thought, 'I know you have to stay strong for **them**, Olive, but you can be honest with me.'

Olivia's eyes widened, 'You can talk to me? Telepathically? We can do this?'

'Of course, Olive. We used to do it when we were kids. Can't you remember the times when you would feed me answers for the… oh… right.' He blinked, 'Just tell me what's wrong. What's on your mind?'

'I've seen her face before – back from the universe we come from. In our universe, she was Dr. Bishop's lab assistant. And she died in a fire _years_ ago. Yet here she is and she hasn't aged a day. And she says she's never met Dr. Bishop. It just doesn't make sense.'

'You'll figure it out, Olive. Wait I think they asked us something.'

"_SCP-1428-2?"_

"Are you referring to me?" Olivia furrowed her brow at them, "You changed our numbers again? What for?"

"New evidence, SCP-1428-2." Dr. Hendricks gave her the smuggest of smiles – so much for being emotionally removed from a project. "Your information dealing with SCP-1428, or Cortexiphan, proved most valuable."

"And we'd like to hear more about it," Dr. Kwon leaned in.

Olivia still couldn't peg Dr. Kwon. He seemed so young, so pure, and yet something lurked underneath him, but what? He seemed much more eager to be involved in this project. And not for petty ego-stroking or even for vengeance, which is what she got from Dr. Hendricks, or just to be the observer and the assistant carefully navigating through the shadows, like **Dr. Warren**, but for something else. What was he after? Pure science? Or something more? Did he want to grasp the brilliance Bell and Walter had been working on in their experimental prime? Did he want to unlock the secrets of the world? Or did he just want control? She trusted this Kwon the least. His gentler demeanor was quite fooling.

"Even if I knew how to make it, I wouldn't tell you." Olivia refused to be anything less than calm. "But it **is** makeable. It didn't just fall from the sky."

"Fine. I'll play along. We'll move on to something else." Dr. Kwon got out a document from a grey folder with that same SCP logo plastered everywhere on the walls. "One of our agents sent to collect the both of you noted that you were looking for something. And that you found… _someone_. And that _someone_ upset SCP-1428-1 over there." Dr. Kwon turned to Nick, which made Olivia very uneasy, "Would you mind sharing what you saw, SCP-1428-1? What exactly triggered the event?"

Nick gave them a smile, 'I got this, Olive. Don't worry.'

'Are you sure?'

'Positive.'

Nick didn't talk for two minutes or so, but finally he revealed, "I was depressed."

Olivia bit her lip; she hoped to hell that Nick was in control. And deep down, even though she wanted to believe in him – because he NEEDED her to believe in him – she didn't.

"That's it?" Dr. Kwon didn't seem to be buying it. Olivia swallowed harshly; this man was no fool. "That's all? Mere depression? According to this file you saw someone – or something – that looked like you. Was it a clone? Was it an anomaly? Tell us, SCP-1428-1; we can _help_ you."

The word 'help' jolted Nick, caught him off guard. He looked at Dr. Kwon with wavering blue eyes – blue eyes searching for a way out, for escape, for a cure to his disease.

Olivia saw this. "Don't listen to him, Nick." Olivia turned to him and shook her head. 'We can't trust these people. Dr. Kwon may look like a trustable man, but he's not. He's lying. He can't help you. He wants to HURT you, Nick. He doesn't care about helping you. All he wants is **control**. He wants to control you, control me, and control the Cortexiphan inside us. Trust me. _Trust Olive_.'

"Let SCP-1428-1 talk, SCP-1428-2," Dr. Kwon leaned back, eyes narrowing. "I won't hurt you, _Nick_."

"Nick don't you **dare** listen to him," Olivia's head jerked back and forth from Dr. Kwon, to the guards, to Nick. "Don't listen to a word that bastard says. Listen to ME. Listen to ME when I'm telling you that he doesn't care. We're only alive because we're _useful_ to them. Otherwise, they would've disposed of us just like they do the prisoners they employ."

Nick turned to her with helpless, tortured blue eyes. If their hands were free, he would have held hers. He would have held hers and never let go.

He was jealous of how calm she was. There wasn't a bead of sweat on her smooth face, but Nick was sticky all over. He was red in the face. He was panicked. His heart rate was accelerating with every additional second he stayed in the room. And he was shaking. Just every cell in his body was shaking in fear of what these people wanted from him, from Olivia, from the both of them. He wanted to be as strong as her, but he just couldn't. He just wasn't capable of her strength. And as much as he wanted to be inspired by her strength, as much as he wanted to even _mimic_ her strength to make the pain stop, he couldn't. And the demons in his head were laughing at him. The voice in his head kept repeating how worthless and weak he was. How even the doctors had made a mistake bringing him in.

'_You're powerless. They don't even want you. They just want Olivia. You're nothing to them. You're just a liability. You're something to hold for ransom. Olivia will do anything to keep you alive and they'll use that to their advantage. You're nothing but a mistake – a mistake that should've been taken care of a long time ago. Worthless little Nick and his pathetic little tears. Tell __**her **__how scared you are, Nick. Let them know how weak you really are. Let __**her **__know how weak you really are.'_

"I'm _scared_, Olive," Nick said – through a doctor in the back. Dr. Montgomery from before. "I can't take it anymore. I'm not strong like you. I can't do this. Don't let them get to me. Don't let them take me."

"We're together, Nick. I'll protect you. I'll keep you safe. But you have to help _me_, Nick. You have to stay calm. You can't panic. You can't panic like you did before. Can you keep everything under control?" Olivia's voice was hushed, but she suspected they could still hear her. It was a risk she had to take; she couldn't risk losing Nick to himself. "Can you hear me, Nick?"

"I hear you, Olive," Nick – the real Nick – whispered and nodded. "I'll try."

Dr. Kwon stood up, abruptly, loudly. "Sever the bond."

No.

"Are you sure that's the best course of action, Dr. Kwon?" Dr. Hendricks seemed adamantly against the idea. "If SCP-1428-2 is the only thing keeping an empathic event from occurring, by all means, keep their bond connected."

"If this bond is preventing me from gathering more data, I say sever it." Dr. Kwon pointed to Olivia, accusingly, "SCP-1428-2's influence on SCP-1428-1 is dictating the idle pace of this process. By severing this bond, SCP-1428-1 will be more open to questioning and SCP-1428-2 may be open to…" Dr. Kwon's eyes narrowed again, "_Cooperating_." He then turned to Dr. Hendricks and icily hissed, "Your _fear_, Dr. Hendricks, is another thing preventing me from continuing. You can't let _another_ episode with a SCP cloud your judgment."

It was Dr. Hendricks' turn to stand up. He nearly overturned the table he was sitting behind in fury, "How DARE you even-"

"_**Gentlemen, this is no time for another one of your power struggles." **_It was the apathetic female voice from before. _** "Let us focus on the delicate matters at hand."**_

"_**Dr. Kwon, if you so believe that severing this bond will give you more information, you have the permission from O5 Command."**_ This was another voice. Olivia didn't recognize it. _**"HOWEVER, if any SCP becomes too unstable, we will order an immediate reunion of the two SCPs. You will be held accountable for anything that transpires, Dr. Kwon; this judgment better be more than a hunch. As for you, Dr. Hendricks, you will see to the data collection from SCP-1428-1. Dr. Kwon will remain here with SCP-1428-2."**_

Before Olivia could even breathe, Nick was snatched away from her, screaming, "OLIVE! HELP ME! DON'T LET THEM TAKE ME!"

Olivia thrashed in her restraints, kicking, screaming, "You can't do this! You don't know what you're doing! You-"

Dr. Kwon injected a vial of the funny orange liquid into her arm. "SCP-1428-2, I believe I know what I am doing, but thank you for your assessment." He pushed one of her blonde strands of hair behind her ear, "I would rather not Hendricks have any jurisdiction here, but at least I still have you."

It hadn't taken effect yet. Olivia was still under her own power. It was a struggle, [she kept gasping and panting laboriously] but she could still speak. And she was still livid. "Where have the rest of the doctors gone?" The only remaining people in the room were Dr. Kwon, **Dr. Warren**, and the two guards still stationed in the room with probably more outside.

"To supervise Dr. Hendricks, no doubt. His reputation isn't what is used to be." Dr. Kwon pulled his chair right beside Olivia. "Don't struggle with those handcuffs, 1428-2; you'll feel relaxed soon enough."

"I refuse." Olivia could have spat at him, if she felt it would've made a difference.

"Why so much defiance, SCP-1428-2? Who are you protecting? **What **are you protecting?"

"The research should have never started in the first place." Olivia wasn't sure if their so-called "truth serum" had taken effect, or if she sincerely wanted to reason with this man. But she proceeded, against all better judgment. "We were children – or we _should've_ been children. They took our childhood away from us and any chance of having a normal life. I'm not normal and I'll never be normal. And I don't want this to happen to anyone else. _No one deserves this life_." Olivia pierced the doctor eyes with hers, "I don't care what you'll do to me. I'll never cooperate with you. Use all the truth serum you want. Hook me up to any number of machines, I don't care; I REFUSE to help you. I refuse to turn other children – other people – into mistakes like me and Nick." Olivia shook her head, trying to fight down the urge to shed tears. This man didn't deserve to see her tears, nor did she want to show him any sign of weakness, of submission. "Nick especially. He's haunted. He's tortured. He remembers everything because he didn't choose to forget. I forgot – to protect myself. But he's vulnerable to his memories. I don't exactly KNOW what they did to us; I can only use my imagination. But for Nick… it's all too real. And he can never escape it. And I don't want you to hurt him. And I don't want him to hurt anyone else. One false move from that Dr. Hendricks and every last one of us is dead."

Dr. Kwon took time to ponder Olivia's words. His face softened as he turned them over in his mind.

But then he looked right back at **Dr. Warren**, who nodded back at him.

"Plug her in."

* * *

Olivia regretted the plea that had been in vain. The only thing it had accomplished was interesting Kwon further. But she didn't have time to fixate on her blunder. Right now… anything was possible. She was at the mercy of Dr. Kwon and his quest for knowledge. And her mind was at the mercy of whatever the fuck he had injected into her.

**Dr. Warren** had just finished applying the electrodes to her temples. This all seemed very Walter-ian – as if she was back in the lab and they were trying to solve a case. If she ever got out of this, she would take every single case Broyles threw at her – no exceptions. She wouldn't take a vacation for the rest of her life. Thinking about even the paperwork brought a heavenly chorus into her mind.

"You think you've endured pain, SCP-1428-2?" Dr. Kwon was near a switchboard. She couldn't make out the buttons or knobs. Her vision was blurry. Her pulse and her breathing were rapid. "If you cooperate, you won't have to."

Olivia tested the waters. "And if I don't?"

"You're going to wish you did. **Dr. Warren**, are we ready for a test run? Alright." Dr. Kwon pushed a button and instantly energy surged through Olivia's body, starting from her head and rushing down to the nail beds of her toes. It wasn't excruciating, but it wasn't pleasant. She wasn't sure how many of those she would be able to endure.

"I want you to tell me about the drug trials. Anything. The first thing that pops into your head."

"I told you everything I know already," Olivia snarled, struggling against the restraints against her wrists, the three binding her to the bed across her midsection, and the two binding her legs. "Let me go. There's nothing else I can tell you."

"Can tell or **will** tell? It's still there, SCP-1428-2. All you need is a little _incentive_."

It was a much stronger dose than the one he had given her before. She grimaced, clenching and unclenching the muscles in her back as the energy surged through her again. The hair on her arms stood up. A blood vessel against her temple began to pound and ache.

"Try again," Dr. Kwon ordered. The kindness in his voice was beginning to dissipate. Olivia actually liked this better; she knew it all had been a façade.

"No."

Olivia resolved that she would not scream for as long as possible. She would hold out. She would be stronger than this Dr. Kwon. She would win this battle and then she would win the war. This man was no David Robert Jones, no William Bell; he was still young and inexperienced. She would best him. Her will would be stronger than his.

"I'm warning you, SCP-1428-2." Dr. Kwon's nasally voice was lower now. His dark brown hair looked especially ruffled. "I'm naturally a very calm, collected man. I would rather not resort to the extremes."

"I thought this was_ already_ the extreme?" Olivia forced a laugh. How far could this man be pushed? What would he do? If she was so valuable to him, he had to stop at some point. If Cortexiphan was so vital, he would HAVE to stop at some point. Or would he?

He shocked her again. This was the highest setting yet, forcing Olivia to grunt audibly in pain. But it was just a mere grunt, not a shriek.

"How about now?"

No. No it was still too early to crack now.

Olivia didn't say anything.

"SCP-1428-2?" It was **Dr. Warren** speaking. "Is it conscious? Dr. Kwon we can't afford to-"

"She's just playing possum. But at this point, I doubt we'll get anything out of her." Olivia heard a crash. "They can take her back."

* * *

Olivia was alone in their cell. Nick hadn't returned yet. This was troubling. But the fact that she couldn't sense him or connect with him was even more so.

Those questions had her mind spinning. What HAD her childhood been like? Apart from the abusive stepfather and the constant moving, what else?

She honestly didn't remember much. No dreams, no vivid hallucinations, not even a glimpse when she went into the isolation tank. But then again Olivia had put her body and mind on the line only for John Scott or to cross universes, never to go into her childhood.

And she didn't want to. She didn't want to see what she needed to repress.

Because she was afraid her memories would be much like this. Unethical "tests." The test site may have functioned as a daycare, but it was still a test site. But had the drug trials been as bad as this? Had Dr. Bishop and William Bell ever electrocuted children? Had they been hooked up to machines and forced to react to certain stimuli? Maybe not.

Here she felt like an animal – no even worse than that. They certainly didn't think she was human. She was a "humanoid," never referred to by name, only by number. And not even by a singular number; she was a series of numbers. She was one of many. She was an anomaly amongst countless other anomalies that had to be solved, shielded, and suppressed. Even Bell and Walter had called her Olive. Even Walter and Bell had at least _cared_ about them – saw the humanity in them.

But Bishop and Bell were fighting a losing battle. To the best of Olivia's knowledge, this SCP Foundation had never experimented on children. To the best of Olivia's knowledge, this Foundation had never given children substances unknowingly or unwillingly. To the best of Olivia's knowledge, this change was irreversible; it would last until they all took their last dying breaths.

Forming Cortexichildren was the polar opposite of what the "ethical" solution should be. Dr. Walter Bishop and Dr. William Bell were directly responsible for her "containment."


	7. Origin of Insanity

**SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"**

**Chapter 7: Origin of Insanity**

* * *

**Disclaimers:** During the writing process, all of the SCP number selections I have used were / are vacant. I don't intend to publish this on the wiki, so if the series number is now taken… meh kewl story, bro. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.

Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. Each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. The SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.

Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: _Bob_. Over Somewhere Else: **Bob**.

**Author's Notes:** Damn this shit is getting hard to write. Like it was so hard for me to get into the mood of all of this, but then I listened to "The Difference Between Medicine & Poison is the Dose" by Circa Survive & everything just SPLOOOSHed out of my mind. It was crazy. The song screams Nick in general.

Also TWs for self-harm / cutting / bloody type language. It gets pretty graphic here. So if you're easily triggered by that sort of thing… I'm giving you a heads up.

This chapter was originally titled "Bleed Black" but while reviewing this chapter, Markiplier made a vid that featured the phrase "Origin of Insanity" & it made me think of Nick & this is Nick-centric so yeah. He says it's a good name for a band & if you use it you're supposed to give him like a penny for every note you use. So does this mean I have to give him a penny for every word I use? Or every letter?

**THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING, Samuri7269. It really means a lot to me like honestly thank you so much like omg.**

* * *

**[[ FOR LEVEL 4+ CLEARANCE EYES ONLY ]]**

**Log 1428-2-01**

_Dr. J. Kwon:_

The current containment procedures for the two SCP-1428 humanoids stresses that we must not separate the two SCPs under most circumstances. SCP-1428-1 needs SCP-1428-2 in close proximity and in open dialogue in order to maintain emotional stability. This is vital to suppress SCP-1428-1's violent outbreaks. And during our latest research session, what could have been a major empathic event was controlled because of SCP-1428-2's presence. SCP-1428-1's fear manifested in Dr. Montgomery. Through her, it expressed terror of the Foundation and it begged for SCP-1428-2 to protect it. The situation could have escalated to the point of [DATA REDACTED].

However this same bond, although it is incredibly vital, discourages proper data collection and thus hinders the process of understanding SCP-1428, SCP-1428-1, and SCP-1428-2. Thus I ordered [and was granted] a separation of the two SCPs.

SCP-1428-2 is especially stubborn – almost painfully so. When SCP-1428-1 appeared willing to disclose information, SCP-1428-2 prevented this. SCP-1428-2 gives SCP-1428-1 strength – the strength to lessen empathic events, but also to lessen cooperation with the Foundation. SCP-1428-1 has not expressed animosity for the Foundation; SCP-1428-2 **has**. SCP-1428-2 is the most curious, continually questioning why it is here, and the most defiant, continually refusing to cooperate during questioning, of the two. How SCP-1428-2 has such a strong effect on SCP-1428-1 is unknown. Perhaps the two of them can communicate telepathically with each other? Further tests are needed to confirm this.

I theorized that SCP-1428-2 would be more willing to cooperate after their separation. I was wrong. However I still believe that SCP-1428-1 will. In spite of SCP-1428-2's steadfast, stubborn nature, I was still able to gain insight: it is very protective; it cares about human lives; it does not want more people to become like it. It seems, dare I say, very human in its capacity to care and possibly love. SCP-1428-2 is especially protective over SCP-1428-1. And SCP-1428-1 has such a devotion to SCP-1428-2. Perhaps their bond is not only psychic, but physical? Emotional? Could one even label it love?

SCP-1428-2 also has a very high tolerance for pain, but I did not observe anything else. Any ability SCP-1428-2 has mentioned was not present, even under advanced levels of stress. Perhaps it has better control over its abilities than we first suspected, and its estimation was actually an understatement? Or perhaps the SCP overexaggerated its abilities to protect SCP-1428-1? In either case I am left frustrated and with little answers.

I will await Dr. Hendricks' results. Hopefully he has made a break-through. But I'm not holding my breath.

* * *

**Personal Log of Dr. Wallace Hendricks:**

I need to get results here. The O5 are on my ass and Dr. Kwon's existence just… it doesn't help.

I haven't produced vital information to The Foundation in a while. They're doubting my abilities. Hell, even** I'm** doubting my abilities.

I'm fortunate that this empath doesn't feed off of my emotions. But… at the same time… when it took control of me… I didn't fight it. It was something I've felt like doing for quite some time now.

I don't want to be around this thing. If it were up to me, it would've been destroyed as soon as it came in. But no, Dr. Kwon wants to get promoted by finding out the exact specifics of Cortexiphan. Dr. Kwon wants to be the newest member of the O5 staff. Dr. Kwon wants to be at the forefront of the Overseer class. Dr. Kwon wants nothing short of the entire Foundation.

Fine. If he wants the information that bad, he can have it. I'm done after this. **I'm done**.

* * *

"Dr. Hendricks? Dr. Hendricks, are you sure you're administering the proper voltage-"

"I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING." Dr. Hendricks spun around to face Nick, azure eyes bloodshot and dilated. "_Keep. Going. Up_."

Nick had stopped feeling pain three cranks of the dial ago. He had also started convulsing three cranks ago. His nose had started bleeding four cranks of the dial ago. Nick had started crying five cranks of the dial ago. Nick had started screaming as soon it all had started.

But now Nick was too weak to even scream. "You – haven't even – asked me – a question," he wheezed at them. He could barely even breathe now. "What do you want?" How many cranks had it been since he could barely breathe?

"Are you ready to cooperate?"

"I've been… ready." Nick's head bobbed up and down. He was going to lose consciousness. His vision had started to go four cranks of the dial ago, but now everything was darkening around him. "Just… ask me… something. Anything." His head was on fire – a sensation that had started six cranks of the dial ago.

"Tell me about the drug trials, Nick."

"Wh-what about them?" The blood kept trickling into his mouth. It made it hard for him to speak. Or it made it_ harder_ to speak. It had become hard to speak three cranks of the dial ago. "It lasted… for quite a while."

"What do you remember?"

"Olive. Olive was there." He smiled. He could see her – right in front of him. The little girl he always remembered with the golden hair and the golden smile. "_Olive_," he repeated, woozily.

"Enough about SCP-1428-2!" Dr. Hendricks' fingers danced dangerously close to the dial, but the threat went unnoticed; Nick couldn't see [again his vision had gone four cranks ago]. "What **else **do you remember?"

"I remember they made me play dead. They wanted… to test her. I thought… it was just a game. But she really DID think I was dead. She… she got mad." Nick attempted to swallow; he attempted to quell the dried, scorched sensation creeping its way up his throat, but it was in vain. He couldn't even create the tiniest drop of saliva. So he continued. "I remember fire. Screams. I thought I would die for sure…"

"I think it's just rambling on, sir. I think you went too far."

"I did NOT go too far. Dr. Kwon wouldn't have given up. Dr. Kwon pushes the boundaries and no one ever questions **his** motives." Dr. Hendricks tugged on his white chin hair. "You all WORSHIP the man like a saint."

"But I didn't say anything about Dr. Kwon, sir."

As Dr. Hendricks went on a rant denouncing Dr. Kwon's character, Nick fell into unconsciousness. Into the darkness. Into the realm of _him._

It was immediate. _"Maybe they should just kill you." _His voice echoed in the surrounding nothingness, as Nick plunged even further into black infinity.

"Don't you ever stop?" Nick jerked around, hoping to get a glimpse of this demon – for once. Just this once.

"_Don't you ever stop existing?" _The voice cackled and spat. _"You're so weak. That_ _doctor is one dial away from killing you."_

"Shut up." Nick stopped falling through space. He stayed there, suspended, "You fucking shut up. I don't need to listen to you; you're just a voice."

"_You don't know where they have her, do you? She's not right next to you. She's somewhere else."_

"You're lying. Olive's always right beside me."

"_Cut the childish crap. Don't you remember? They took you away from her. By force. She's still there in that room. She's helpless – just like you are every day."_

"Stop it."

"_If you were any other person, I'd tell you to save her. I'd tell you to save yourself. But you're still a pathetic little boy. She'll __**never**__ love you – I don't see why you try."_

Nick spun around, ready to face the voice head on. "I'll save her. I'll do it."

"_Are you sure? Are you done crying and screaming? That's all you've been doing. I'd be surprised if you could actually pull this off."_

"I'm not like them. They're normal. I'm special. I'm a soldier. I'm a fighter."

"_Fine. Prove to Jones that you're worthy for the cause. Prove to __**her**__ that you're worthy of her love."_

Nick violently wheezed for air, bolting upright against the restraints. The voice had been right – Olivia wasn't there. "Where's Olive?" He still asked them. "Where – is – she?"

Normally when he asked "Where's Olive?" it was a weak whimper or a shrill scream. When he bolted awake every night, it was wailed out, fearful and lonely. When he had asked the guards every day, it was shaking, desperate and weak. But now he was calm, dangerously calm. He sounded like her. He felt like her. He felt _control_.

But he also felt like the darker Nick, the Nick that dwelled in the black abyss that berated him in his sleep. That was the Nick that thrived from the nightmares; that was the Nick that both protected him and harmed him. That was the Nick that developed after the drug trials – his way of coping through it all. This Nick was strength when he wasn't; this Nick was power when he wasn't. This Nick was Olivia when there was no Olivia. And there hadn't been Olivia for a very long time.

And Nick felt it crawl through him, under his skin and through his blood vessels. This Nick was a disease and soon the control turned into blood lust. The control turned into chaos. The darker Nick wanted to enjoy it; he wanted to see them all pay. And the darker Nick was the one Jones preferred anyway. Jones liked the death he brought. There was a special kind of control you could get from chaos.

Aides and guards surrounded him, attempting to calm him down. But they would only attempt.

One of the female doctors approached him, hoping to secure the restraints he had loosened. "SCP-1428-2 is back in its cell-"

"_**In a cell? You have Olive in a cell?" **_He looked at the woman in pure disgust, repulsed by her very existence, "Do you know how lonely and desperate it's like? To be in a cell? To feel like hope has turned its back on you? That everything and everyone has abandoned you? To feel that you're nothing and nothing matters? To feel that you'll never matter and that you've never mattered? To feel that you're as powerful as an ant – _even less_ than an ant? It's inescapable. It's a shadow forever lurking, forever following, but it never comes. You're on the edge, waiting for the plunge, but you never fall. You're suspended. You're trapped. You're caught in a web of nothingness, eating away at you. But you're still trapped, held against your will. They all ignore you. They want you dead. They want to see your worthless body **rot**."

"SCP-1428-1, you need to calm down-" She touched his hand, but by doing so she had sealed her fate and nearly all of those in the room with her.

"_It's enough to make you want to kill yourself,"_ he added, his voice only faint rasps of itself. All Nick had to do was watch. She would do the work for him and so would those guards with those large guns of theirs. They always did the work for him. They always would.

There was a period of silence before the madness would begin. He closed his eyes and breathed in, trying to enjoy it before it all began. 'We're going to get out of here, Olive; I promise. But first…'

It started. It started how it always started – with blood-curling cries and shriveling shrieks and begs for mercy that would not come. And it would end how it always ended – dull thuds and all their lifeless bodies on the floor. And blood. There was always blood. Lots and lots of blood.

The female that had touched his hand lunged at the guards with a blade aimed to kill. But Nick couldn't have her go for the guards; they would've just shot her in the head. There was no fun in that. No blood in that. Nick watched, instead, as the doctor sliced down her wrists. As the blood oozed and bubbled down. As the blood dripped down her wrists, it made him shudder; it made the hair on his neck stand on edge and the flesh of his own wrists start to tingle. And he watched as the other doctors rushed to help her. They were powerless – just like him. They could do nothing. They would do nothing. They would only die.

"Susan! Susan, what are you doing?"

"It's the SCP! Hurry! Sedate it!"

But it was too late for them. "Susan" had gauged out her eyes and was lying limp on the floor. It had been quick – quicker than Nick had expected – but it was quite a sight. After the blade had dug its way into the socket, the eye quite literally popped out. And it rolled around on the floor, bleeding and oozing. And then came the next one. And more screams with that. He'd leave her alive. He'd leave her fumbling on the earth, worthless. He knew the sensation well.

The sickness was spreading now – Nick was spreading now. One of the doctors was strangling himself, pleading with himself to slop, pleading with himself for mercy. Nick could hear bones cracking and the cries start to get weaker and weaker, raspier and raspier, and then finally no more. He fell limp on the ground. He was nothing.

Another one of the doctors was cutting his body open, nice fluid strokes slicing down. His screams fell on deaf ears – for Nick's screams had never been heard. Only by Olive. He wouldn't listen to their screams if no one had listened to his. Especially here. Especially here when they treated him less than a person. They didn't even call him by name. He was SCP-1428-1 to them. He was a disease to them. Well maybe he _was_ a disease. But **they **of all people had no right to judge him; **they **of all people had no right to anything at all.

"NO! I CAN'T! I HAVE A FAMILY! PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME DO THIS! DON'T MAKE ME DO THIS!" Nick didn't care. Fuck this man and his family. Nick didn't have much of a family – not anymore. The only family he had was himself and Olive. The man took the surgeon's knife and sliced his hearts into pieces, blood gushing every which way. His screams finally stopped. Good. Nick especially hated those ones. He hated when they spoke of families, spoke of lovers, spoke of life and love Nick never had – would never have. He loved watching them die the most.

"You monster," one of the guards tried approaching him. But he shot himself right through the mouth. So what if Nick was a monster? What of those guards, terrorizing him and Olive in the night? Taking them to their testing chambers? Prodding them with guns? What of them and their tinted helmets? What of them and their black boots? What of them and the blood that was on THEIR hands?

Another one of the guards was walking dangerously close to the remaining doctors and aides who were huddling in the corner. They were pleading with him, begging him – Nick – to stop. But the guard would shoot without hesitation – Nick would be sure of that.

"No! Stop what you're doing! You're under the SCP's influence! Come to your senses! STO-" Dead.

"YOU CAN'T. YOU HAVE THE WRONG PERSON. SHOOT THE SCP SHOOT IT INSTEA-" Dead.

"I have a family! I have a daughter! I _know_ you, Ted. You won't shoot me. Don't shoot me you can't shoot oh god no!" Dead.

"No please don't kill me please-" Dead. All of them dead. All of them bleeding sacks of flesh on the ground. Despite their pleas, they deserved this fate. They deserved this for hurting Olivia. They deserved this and much worse.

The abnormally white room looked much more realistic, resembling the true ambitions of this SCP Foundation now. Nick quite liked the new paint job. Blood dripping from the walls looked much better than those stupid logos.

Unfortunately Dr. Hendricks had fled the scene when the first kill had transpired. That was alright. He would be dead eventually. And he would suffer the most out of all of them.

Sirens were screaming all around him, pounding into his already pounding skull. He was still in his restraints. He still wasn't free. He needed to get free. Maybe he should've left one of them alive? Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

But now more guards were filing into the room. It was already too late to panic. It was already too late to move. They shot at him with darts. And those darts made him fall right back into the dark.

He had failed. He always failed. He would always fail. Failure.

* * *

Nick could hear voices. But where were they coming from? There wasn't anyone in the room – they had made sure of that. But the voices sounded like they were right next to him.

No, they sounded like they were coming from his head. But these weren't the voices he heard in his head. These weren't the self-hating demons he battled with. These sounded like the doctors. The doctors torturing him and Olivia. But where were they? And what exactly were they saying?

"MY FAULT? This is** YOUR** FAULT!" But they sounded like the demons, forcing the blame on him. What were they? Doctors or demons? His mind was spinning, racing.

"I'm not the one that pushed the SCP to its very limits. _You_ encouraged the empathic event in the first place." But no, these weren't the demons; these were the doctors. That was Dr. Kwon. He was sure of it this time. He was sure.

"_I'M NOT THE ONE THAT SEPARATED THE TWO SCPS IN THE FIRST PLACE_." And that was that vile Dr. Hendricks. That weak, pathetic, emotional man. The man that reminded Nick too much of himself. And Nick suspected the projection went both ways. Perhaps that was why Hendricks was so horrid to him in the first place? But weren't doctors – especially scientific doctors of such a high standing – supposed to be emotionally removed? The opposite of someone like Nick? Weren't they supposed to be like Dr. Bell and Dr. Bishop? Caring, but only justifiably so? Removed? Hardened? Calloused? Almost godly? Dr. Bell and Dr. Bishop certainly acted like gods back then. But these doctors… they were human. They had emotions. They had relationships. It was something Nick had never seen before.

During the drug trials, everyone had been so polite. But there was a protocol even during playtime. There were the aides, so cordial and sometimes even sweet, but they always maintained distance between the children and themselves. Yes the subjects were children and yes this was a daycare, but this was something more; there was a higher objective and a higher calling. The aides refused to be attached and the aides had to be unattached. Not once did Nick see true emotion from those aides. Not once.

And then there were the overseers, the least attached of all. The Bell and Bishop figures were shrouded in much secrecy; the disembodied voices of this O5 staff resembled Bell and Bishop much more than these doctors conducting their experiments. Nick knew that they had the power because they were in control of everything, especially their emotions. These things bickering in the other room couldn't be doctors, could they? Even the doctors Jones had in his arsenal were so very removed, so very aloof to the human condition and human emotions. What was wrong with _these_ doctors? How come they were so ordinary? None of them so far exuded cold confidence. None of them exuded true control.

And suddenly Nick realized he could beat them. **They** could beat them. This SCP Foundation was cracked. They were all too human to be so advanced.

Nick heard Dr. Kwon laugh. "I'm not the doctor with a petty grudge, Hendricks."

"A GRUDGE? YOU THINK THIS IS ALL BECAUSE I HAVE A GRUDGE AGAINST YOU? HOW PETTY OF **YOU**, DR. KWON. I thought you were smarter than that."

"And I thought you were more emotionally aware. There's no need to shout at me, Dr. Hendricks."

"NO NEED TO SHOUT?! NO NEED TO-" Suddenly the yelling stopped. Or Nick's awareness of their yelling stopped.

Regardless, Nick wouldn't have been able to continue. An orange-suited man had come in to dose him. The insight was fun while it lasted.

But before Nick went fully under, he wondered how he could use that relationship to his advantage. If only Olive knew. She could work wonders with people, just as she had worked wonders on himself. She would know exactly what to do, exactly how to wrap the two of them around her fingers, playing their animosity against each other. But Olivia wasn't here. And he had no idea whether he would see Olivia ever again. That was a troubling thought.

* * *

**Log 1428-1-01**

_Dr. W. Hendricks:_

I did not agree with Dr. Kwon's decision to separate the two SCPS, but I obeyed the O5 and initiated questioning of SCP-1428-1 regardless.

Dr. Kwon believed that the separation would make SCP-1428-1 more willing to expose information about SCP-1428 and other related matters. Dr. Kwon's assumption was wrong.

SCP-1428-1 resisted much more than even** I** had anticipated. So I had to use much more forceful measures to pry the information out of him. SCP-1428-1 did not respond well to the shocks. When it finally wanted to cooperate, it only gave vague statements. It rambled about SCP-1428-2. Perhaps it was a scene from their childhood or from the Cortexiphan trials:

I remember they made me play dead. They wanted... to test [SCP-1428-2.] I thought... it was just a game. But [SCP-1428-2] really DID think I was dead. [SCP-1428-2] got mad. ... I remember fire. Screams. I thought I would die for sure.

Whether this was a scare tactic aimed to throw me off, a delusion from the drugs and the shocks, or the actual truth is unknown at present time. If this is true, then perhaps SCP-1428-2 is capable of pyrokinesis. But this seems illogical since we have not even seen a _hint_ of this ability since its containment.

Afterward, SCP-1428-1 seemed to fall into a trance-like state. And then matters escalated from there.

It asked for SCP-1428-2. Then, for lack of a better term, it went berserk. It was much worse than the first empathic event [DATA REDACTED]. It much resembled the event [DATA REDACTED].

There was just carnage everywhere. Doctors cutting themselves open, strangling themselves to death, gauging their eyes out... During which SCP-1428-1 kept ranting about hopelessness, worthlessness, nothingness. All of those feelings spread to the doctors, like a virus. SCP-1428-1 killed them. It didn't listen to any pleas, any cries for mercy. It didn't care if doctors had families or friends. It killed them all. It would've escaped, if it weren't for the task force that finally took the SCP down.

SCP-1428-1 is now contained in its cell. Alone.

I hope Dr. Kwon is happy.

* * *

_Cortexichildren_

**Item #:** SCP-1428

…

**Addendum-03: **Another full empathic event has transpired. SCP-1428-1 is much more dangerous than we ever could have imagined.

Does an empathic event resemble a XK event? That is the question we must ask ourselves before proceeding. Does SCP-1428-1's object class need to be changed to Keter? Is there enough evidence to challenge its Euclid status? Should containment procedures be modified? Should the two humanoids still be contained together? What is our worst case scenario? **– Dr.** █████

**O5-2 :** More information must be gathered before we can jump to the Keter conclusion. Must I remind you how delicate the object reclassification process is? Regardless, the danger SCP-1428-1 poses without SCP-1428-2's ability to suppress its violent manifestations troubles me. However, I also fear what the two of them could do together, even heavily sedated, at this stage. SCP-1428-2 is openly hostile to the Foundation and has already begun to influence SCP-1428-1 to feel the same.

For the time being, the O5 will allow for the separate containment of SCP-1428-1 – thus changing current containment procedures. Further sedation procedures must also take into effect. At all times SCP-1428-1 must be heavily sedated; there will be no exceptions. I advise that only Class-D personnel handle the sedation process. And perhaps there should be a screening of Class-D personnel. We do not know the exact specifics of the manifestation process. In the event that SCP-1428-1 can tap into a person's latent suicidal desires, we must not have any Class-D personnel with ANY such suicidal tendencies, at any levels of consciousness, to come into contact with SCP-1428-1.

Preventing another empathic event is top priority with SCP-1428-1. I will discuss with the rest of the O5 if SCP-1428-1 should even be open to questioning procedures at all – especially the procedures that Dr. Hendricks implemented. Dr. Hendricks induced the empathic event. Unlike SCP-1428-2, SCP-1428-1 is weaker – the SCP said it itself. I advise that all questioning from here on out go through SCP-1428-2, despite its refusals. SCP-1428-2 can stand extreme levels of stress; SCP-1428-1 cannot.

**O5-7 :** Dr. Hendricks' "forceful measures" will be subjected to evaluation.

* * *

**Personal Log of Dr. Wallace Hendricks:**

So even though Dr. Kwan was supposed to be held personally responsible for anything – ANYTHING – bad that transpired because of the separation, **I** am the one held responsible?

Even though the O5 placed responsibility on HIM – because it was HIS decision to separate the two of them and NOT mine – _**I AM STILL TO BLAME? **_The FAVORITISM in this Foundation is beginning to rub me raw.

Sure I may have pushed SCP-1428-1, but I was only doing the essential – the necessary – to get the information. Dr. Kwon pleaded that excuse when HE was the one who removed them in the first place. **He** was the one that found their bond a HINDRANCE to his data-collection. **He** was the one that insisted and yet he accuses ME of being the guilty one.

ALL OF THE O5 FIND ME GUILTY WHERE I AM AS INNOCENT AS A MAN COULD BE.

My forceful measures were sound. I did NOT cause that event. I did NOT kill those people. SCP-1428-1 killed those people. Their blood is not on my hands. Their blood is _not_ on my hands. Their blood is NOT ON MY HANDS.


	8. Pieces

**SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"**

**Chapter 8: Pieces**

* * *

**Disclaimers:** During the writing process, all of the SCP number selections I have used were / are vacant. I don't intend to publish this on the wiki, so if the series number is now taken… bleep bloop. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.

Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. Each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. The SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.

Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: _Bob_. Over Somewhere Else: **Bob**.

**Author's Notes:** A lot of this was originally going to be a part of the last chapter, but I decided to move it. The chapter would've been WAAAAY too big. TW for suicidal language. TW for gore.

I've also found that "Asleep" by States is a Cortexibond song. Like Nick telling Olivia how much she means to him in the first verse, & then after that it's Olivia responding to him. I might have to make a mixtape or playlist. Or a songfic collection. One project at a time, Mica.

**Oh, upon further review, referring to Nick & Olivia as "the SCP/s" is totes incorrect. My bad.**

I've been posting these chapters & they haven't been loading the room parameters. Like you've all been reading & you have no idea how large / small the containment cells are. I have no idea why it doesn't work, but I'll try to fix that. Sorry for the inconvenience. A03 shows them just fine so I have no idea why it isn't working. But most of the rooms have been five-by-five, if Nick or Liv have been alone, or seven-by-seven, if they're together. That's all you're missing, but at the same time that's a big detail.

* * *

_Cortexichildren_

**Item #: SCP-1428**

**Special Containment Procedures:** SCP-1428-1 is to be contained in a 5-by-5 meter room and must be sedated at all times. Security guards must administer Class A sedatives every twenty-five minutes. Failure to apply these procedures will leave those in direct contact with SCP-1428-1 vulnerable to its empathic manipulation. Food and water must be provided three times a day. Direct and sustained contact with SCP-1428-1 is prohibited and violators will be subject to termination. Separation of the two humanoid hosts has been authorized indefinitely.

* * *

**Log 1428-2-09:**

_Dr. J. Kwon:_

I am beginning to lose patience and interest. SCP-1428-2 is completely unresponsive. It downright refuses to disclose any information. No matter how much [DATA EXPUNGED] we use, it's fruitless.

Perhaps the separation of the two subjects is working against us? Perhaps the bond dynamics between the two are more delicate than we realize? I can't determine anything at this point.

But what is absolutely certain is the fact that I have not seen any of SCP-1428-2's supposed abilities. Not even a glimpse. SCP-1428-1 has shown us exactly what it is capable of. We _**know **_what it is. But SCP-1428-2… I can't determine anything.

* * *

Is reclassification of SCP-1428-2 necessary? Hostility for the Foundation aside, it hasn't really DONE anything. So is it safe? **– Dr. ███████**

* * *

**Personal Log of Dr. Jung Kwan:**

And this all seemed so promising. To think how excited I used to be over the hosts… but no more. Unless there is a dramatic discovery… but I doubt it at this stage.

I think **Dr. Warren** and I are going to move elsewhere – tackle the Cortexiphan itself as opposed to the hosts. It'll be fun to crack this puzzle because it seems solvable. SCP-1428-2 is just a mess. But it's perfect for Hendricks. Messes are his specialty. It can be **his** losing battle.

Oh and Dr. Montgomery, too. SCP-1428-2 seems pretty harmless now. Maybe she'll finally get the experience she needs.

* * *

It stopped. The questioning had finally stopped.

Olivia was relieved, and yet she couldn't believe it. After hours – days – at a time of questioning, what made them stop? What made their blistering pace come skidding to a halt? The pace had been _relentless _and the methods had been… extreme. This Foundation's "forceful measures" were labeled "cruel and unusual punishment" back where she was from. Nothing short of torture. Poking and prodding her with various substances, some of them even labeled SCP and a series of numbers. And always the funny orange liquid. That was always kept close at hand. Was it more of a catalyst, working with other substances, as opposed to actually being a truth serum? Olivia didn't know.

But now even the unwelcome visitors had stopped. No one came into her cell… ever. No sedations, no check-ups, just food slipped to her through a slot in the door. And even when she tried to peer through that slim rectangle, nothing. Whoever delivered the food was long gone.

It was suspicious. The daily torture had stopped, and she was thankful for that, but… her mind was free to race. And her mind raced to fearful possibilities, dreaded outcomes, no-win scenarios.

This SCP organization HAD to be planning something. Why would they just let her sit? A facility priding itself on total security just leaving an unknown variable awake and coherent? It didn't add up. What were they planning? The build-up was killing Olivia.

'If they want to kill us they should just get it over with.' Olivia rolled her eyes at the establishment. 'Why in the HELL are you leaving me here alone? Are you making a mistake, or is this all designed to lull me into a false sense of security? And as soon as I get comfortable, you shoot me up with something else and use me as a weapon for world domination?' Olivia shuddered at the thought. '_Everyone _tells me that I'm the strongest, but I still don't even know what that means. It could mean anything. I could be a ticking bomb, for all I know. And if they're able to tap into that… so many innocent people will die.'

But Olivia still had one trump card, although she was hesitant to call it such; it was more like a razor thin edge of advantage against her opponents. 'They still don't know my true potential and they still don't know about the different universes. They haven't been able to probe my subconscious still and I'll make sure they never will. But why the hell am I still here? Have they given up? They can't give up now; it's too early. If they're as scientific as they say, they'll have to keep testing until they get a definitive answer. If they're so big on solving scientific anomalies, why has everything stopped?'

Unless… 'Unless they're going to move on with just Nick.' And with that possibility in mind, Olivia's heart skipped a beat. No. Nick falling into the wrong hands would be catastrophic. Olivia had seen firsthand what kind of destruction Nick was capable of. They didn't even need a cooperative Nick. 'All they need are his abilities. And the more helpless he is, the better; it'll escalate the death toll. All they need to do is keep him scared, keep prodding and pushing him to the edge. And Nick…'

Olivia was in the dark when it came to Nick. Her connection to him wavered between none at all, to the faintest whispers and wafts; it just wasn't enough. And it surely wasn't enough to determine whether he was still alive or not.

But something inside Olivia knew that Nick was still alive. He had to be. She **needed** him to be. Nick may be bleeding, battered, and bruised, but he was still alive. He may be completely and dangerously miserable, but he was still alive.

And maybe Nick's fragile mental state could work to their advantage. Because this Foundation was way over their heads. Olivia couldn't help but laugh at their decision to separate the two of them. Hadn't they realized how dangerous Nick was? When he wasn't in her care? When he wasn't with her? Surely there was blood on their hands at this point. She would bet her life on it.

And yet they thought the best course of action was to further separate the two of them? Where was the thought process in that? Did the Foundation truly not care about the lives of its workers? Could it truly brush it all aside and just move on? With no remorse? With not even a hint of hesitation? What kind of place WAS this?

Olivia smirked, folding her arms behind her as she fell back onto her bed, "Maybe this place just has a death wish."

* * *

He was miserable. He could barely talk. He could barely breathe. The closest he could get to breathing was a few shallow wheezes. Nick was subjected to so much artificial light that it started to burn against him. It felt like his skin was bubbling, boiling underneath it. It felt like ants crawling through his body. Nick tasted acid and he tasted metal. His body shuddered in random, violent spurts, and they hadn't even shocked him.

He was still alive, but barely. He was still conscious, but barely. Sometimes he didn't even know his own name. Sometimes he couldn't even remember Olivia's.

And today it seemed endless. He _had_ been spared this madness for what felt like a while. They had kept him to his cell – heavily medicated, but he was alone. He had mourned the absence of Olivia, but they weren't hurting him there in those white walls. That was a small victory he had been eager to accept. But now he was out of the cell – and the cell had been a sanctuary compared to everything else. Being in the demoned abyss, in the darkest recesses of his mind, seemed heavenly compared to everything else.

And for the longest time the doctors in front of him hadn't spoken at all. All they did was turn the knobs. All they did was inject the vials. They only stared and watched. There was an aide that could barely speak. Sometimes she would pip and whimper a fearful "Dr. Hendricks, you aren't acting like yourself" or a meek "Dr. Winters, are you sure we should continue?" but nothing else. She was weak, so weak that the aide reminded him of himself. He would've felt disgusted, but he was too tired for that. He was too tired for most emotions.

Five hours ago, all he wanted to do was kill them. Kill them for being mere humans, not doctors. Kill them because they were mortal, because they could bleed. Five hours ago, when he was still coherent, he caught a few glimpses. And five hours ago, the aide had been much more open to talk. Supposedly this all wasn't "authorized." Supposedly Dr. Hendricks was being "brash" and "irrational." And Dr. Winters should be "ashamed for enabling Dr. Hendricks' madness." Also there was the bit of Hendricks' "motives already under review – why risk your job over something like this? Why rack up more questionable methods for the panel to consider?"

But it seemed this Dr. Hendricks just didn't care. The man was a deranged shadow of himself. At any moment, Nick swore the guy would start frothing at the mouth.

Five hours ago, Nick swore he would kill them all – kill all the doctors in this disgusting little room. And especially kill that cockroach of a man Hendricks. Five hours ago, he still had the mental and physical strength to demand to be freed. To demand Olivia to be freed. Five hours ago, he could have ended things. But that was all five hours ago.

Now he was exhausted. Now he was spent. Now he was running on the merest hints of fumes. 50% of Nick's energy went to keeping his eyes open; the other 50% went to keeping himself awake. And he was running on energy reserves. The last of his strength dried up over an hour ago. Nick had nothing. He tried to scrape a measly 1% of his energy to keep the demons at bay… but the energy wouldn't come.

He was alone and Nick was CERTAIN he was going to die. He was so utterly afraid, under the white lights. And that man with the glasses seemed to be bringing in operating instruments. For **him**.

Oh god, he was going to die and he couldn't even move.

And worse still was this sensation of familiarity – like Nick knew this Dr. Winters. Maybe it was the funny orange liquid, maybe it was Nick being plain delusional, but this man… he knew this man. He had seen this man before. And Nick couldn't help but feel that this man was important. Like this man had done something for him [or to him] before. But he just couldn't remember.

But it didn't matter. It would all be ending soon enough. But he was much too young to die, wasn't he?

* * *

Then it hit her. After what felt like a week in the dark, she caught a glimpse of the light. It was a snapshot – maybe only a three second flash – but she saw everything through Nick's eyes. She felt… unfathomably worn out and… petrified. She hoped to both universes – _**all**_ the universes – that Nick was alright.

Olivia was surprised to see that the shocks had stopped. And even the serum injections had stopped. She was thankful for that, because all that voltage running through Nick in a continuous current was sure to cause damage, right? Or was the Cortexiphan protecting him? That substance continued to amaze and disturb her.

But then she saw a man. A glimpse of a man in the room besides Dr. Hendricks. And Olivia didn't even recognize Hendricks, the man was so unlike himself. Right now Hendricks looked like the type of man Olivia tracked down for Fringe cases. He looked like the type of man to do something foolish, something brash without considering the consequences. He seemed like the type of man who didn't even consider the lives of others in his path to glory. Or in his case, redemption.

But who was this other man? With glasses and white hair? With a sinister smile working silently in the shadows? When he finally stepped out of those shadows, he looked familiar. This was the same sensation she had experienced when she first saw **Dr. Warren**.

"Who are you?" Olivia asked herself. "Who are you and what are you doing with the SCP Foundation?"

* * *

Nick had to speak. Nick had to plead. "If you want – answers – I've given them to you. There isn't much – to talk about – anymore." He grunted, rolling his eyes and whimpering through the gnawing pain in his head, the pulsing ache in his chest, the piercing fire in his legs. The taste of metal flooded his mouth again.

The timid little aide squeaked again. "Dr. Hendricks, might I remind you last time-"

"I need my answers. This specimen will talk. He WILL talk. He'll give me answers. _He'll give me answers_." Dr. Hendricks kept repeating, slurring, how Nick would give him the answers. And Dr. Hendricks kept ranting and staggering about in a drunken frenzy.

Nick wasn't safe. They should kill him now to get it over with. Just existing was exhausting enough. If he died, he would be freed of the nightmare before him. If he died, he would no longer be the SCP Foundation's captive. If he died, he would no longer be the captive to Cortexiphan – to Walter Bishop's burning legacy for him. If he died, there would be no voices echoing in the dark, urging him to kill others or to kill himself. If he died, all the pain would be over.

"_Kill me,"_ he rasped out to the aide. "Kill me, I'm begging you. _ I don't want to live like this anymore."_

* * *

That face. The face was familiar now. Dr. Winters was a man from a case, one of the earlier cases of her Fringe career. He had been involved in… activating Cortexiphan subjects.

Olivia's eyes widened. Nick had to get out of there. Olivia needed to get him out of there, but she couldn't even reach him. There were too many barriers – physical and mental – between them.

'No, this is bad. This is bad. Who knows what **Winters** will do to him. Who knows what Hendricks is up to.' Olivia looked up – there was only one camera on her. She decided to take a shot.

"Hey! Hey you! I know you're watching this feed, you Foundation _fucks_." She stood up on her bed and waved her hands. "Pay attention: if you want to save a few of your sorry excuses for doctors, I advise you get in to SCP-1428-1's testing room. If you don't get there soon, there will be more blood on your hands; I guarantee it."

* * *

"This is the highest setting, **Dr. Winters**, Dr. Hendricks. Really, I believe we should stop. The specimen is expressing sui-"

"Dr. Lee, that will be all," **Dr. Winters** dismissed the aide curtly. "I shall take over from here."

"But you don't understa-"

"I am your senior, Dr. Lee; you will do as I say."

She scampered out of there. Nick didn't blame her. Nick wanted to do the same thing.

"If the rest of you," **Dr. Winters'** stare narrowed at the remaining four doctor-type figures in the room, "Wish to challenge my authority, I'm in the terminating mood today."

A uniform hush fell over them.

Nick was mortified – a man treating his own doctors, his own soldiers, like that? What about _him_, the enemy? Termination sounded like a luxury Nick would not be afforded.

But he'd try anyway.

"_Just kill me._" Nick was choking on his words. It was too much for him to speak. _"I… can't… Please kill me." _Inside Nick was crying. Inside Nick was desperate to break free of this hell and this was the only way he knew how at this point. Inside he was a sobbing, broken thing. A tiny, helpless thing with nowhere to turn. The pain was endless, drowning him, encasing him. 'Put me out of my misery. End it all. Let me die. Please. Please just let me die.' Nick would've cried if he had the energy; Nick would've cried if he had the tears.

But Nick's emotions still carried energy. Even in his decrepit state, Nick had the influence – the power of persuasion.

They should have listened to the aide. Because when the guards came in, it was already too late for those four doctors. When the guards barged in with their guns and their helmets, all they could do was listen to their screams and strangled cries.

The guards also listened to the horrid cracking and breaking of bones. And the violent ripping of arms out of their sockets. It was a scene real horrorshow that could only be paired with the squishing, slicing action of lobotomies. But it was a less delicate process than a real medical procedure; the man really just wanted to slice his head open. He achieved that. Then it was just half-hazard sawing through the organ until he expired. It's a wonder how long he was able to function.

Nick didn't even know intestinal messes could be used to strangle people. Humans were certainly inventive.

* * *

**Personal Log of Dr. Wallace Hendricks:**

I was lucky to escape there with my life.

I'm done for. I was blinded. And **Dr. Winters**… I don't know what his angle was… but…

SCP-1428-1 is too dangerous. If it can't be destroyed, it needs to be moved. To a more armed facility. We can't control it here.

* * *

**Log 1428-1-04:**

_Dr. Winters:_

After 5 hours of [DATA EXPUNGED], Hendricks and I had nothing. The subject was unresponsive. I didn't think that… the event would happen. But then it happened.

If I wasn't in the room, it would have been a site to behold. But everyone around me was dying. In hideously gruesome ways. And I barely escaped with my life. And I watched from behind a one-way panel as the subject... had her slit open her own abdomen, claw out her intestines, and… then she choked herself… with… I vomited when I saw it. I'm about to vomit now.

SCP-1428-1 was exhausted – mentally and physically – and yet it was able to bring about such slaughter. It's contained now. We didn't even need tranquilizers. After the event, the subject fell into unconsciousness. But it won't stay like that for long.

**O5-6 :** The actions of **Dr. Winters** and Dr. Hendricks will be brought into question AFTER we deal with the matters at hand. The priority is the fate of SCP-1428-1.

* * *

Why was he still alive? He thought he had died back there. Why was he still alive? Why was life still torturing him? Why couldn't he leave in peace?

"_Kill me, please,"_ he pleaded to the orange-suited man. _"Kill me."_

But the man only killed himself.

The man closed the door, crashed the cup against the wall, and slit his throat with the shards.

* * *

The clean-up crew didn't fare much better.

Smash, smash, smash. Trying to split their heads open like an egg. Right up on the floor. Smash, smash, smash. Until they couldn't take it anymore.

There was also the head-butting approach against a wall. Thud, thud, thud. Each thud leaving behind a bigger red splotch than before. And when the man skidded down the floor, the red trail skidded along with him.

And Nick could only watch as they were given such beautiful release from the prison of life. How ironic it was – Nick could never kill himself when he wanted to; he could only kill others. He could give others the gift of death, but never himself. What a wonderful gift from Dr. Walter Bishop. What a fucking lovely gift indeed. How Nick wished those average fucks dying left and right were Dr. Bishop and his underlings instead.

* * *

_Cortexichildren_

**Item #:** SCP-1428

…

**Addendum-04:** Multiple empathic events have transpired. Arrangements have been made.

**O5-2 :** SCP-1428-1 will be moved from Site 19 to Armed Bio-Containment Area-14. SCP-1428-1 will be kept in a state of suspended animation using [DATA EXPUNGED].

But the status of SCP-1428-2 remains unknown. The decision to keep it at Site 19 or the decision to move it with SCP-1428-1 divides the O5 Command.

**O5-7 :** Because of Armed Bio-Containment Area-14, and because of the proposed suspended animation procedures, SCP-1428-2's effects on SCP-1428-1 would no longer be needed. The specifics of the bond are still unknown and data collection of this bond is vital, but is it worth moving SCP-1428-2, as well? Is SCP-1428-2 even dangerous enough to warrant the proposed transportation?

* * *

"Olivia?"

Olivia jolted awake. Her pulse quickened and her jaw tensed – there was someone in the room with her. For the first time in days, there was someone in the room with her.

"What-what do you want with me?" Olivia was ashamed; her voice was shaking in fear and from the adrenaline rush the fear brought on. "Where's Nick? Why am I still here? What do you want?"

Her lips were red today, instead of purple. A deep red. "Hello, Olivia."

"You're the doctor from before." Olivia's eyes widened. "But what are you doing here?"

"I'm technically not supposed to be here." Dr. Montgomery pulled out a grey rectangle – it looked like a remote. She clicked it, "This'll turn the cameras off. I have two minutes before they suspect anything."

"Are you going to help me?" Olivia's pulse had sky-rocketed. She had hope; she had energy; she was alive again. 'Or is she here to finally kill me?'

"No. _You _are going to help _me_, Olivia." From her lab coat, she pulled out a tablet-like device. "This is the S-Nav Ultimate. All containment locations are programmed into this device. SCP-1428-1's name will appear in the top left hand corner. When you're within range, a red circle will surround where you are on the map. The closer you get to him, the smaller the circle will become. I've also programmed the fastest route to get to SCP-1428-1. Don't deviate from it, or you'll be lost for sure."

Olivia absorbed every word this woman had for her. But the question still remained. "Why are you helping me?"

Dr. Montgomery pushed a strand of her coiled short hair behind her ear, "I believe the Foundation is making a mistake. And I don't want the lives of innocent people on the line." She clenched her free brown fist, "If I'm violating protocol and am subject to termination, so be it. But I don't believe that separating you two is the best course of action."

"Separating?" Dr. Montgomery hadn't mentioned this before. Olivia's eyes narrowed – what else was this woman hiding? "Why?"

"If you succeed in reuniting with Nick and the two of you are able to escape, you won't have to worry." Dr. Montgomery looked hesitantly up at the cameras. "We've gone over two minutes. I'll have to hurry." She took a hasty breath and rushed, "Your Nick has been responsible for many Foundation deaths. They believe he's dangerous – and he is – because he isn't with you. They're taking him to an armed facility. And they're going to keep him in suspended animation, in an effort to neutralize him."

Olivia didn't like the term _neutralize_. And even worse she didn't like where that left her. "While keeping me behind, hoping to study me?" she deduced.

"Yes."

Olivia took the S-Nav from Dr. Montgomery.

"Olivia?"

There was definitely something swelling inside her. Rage. Now that she was free… she could finally exact her revenge on this fucking Foundation. And Olivia felt something bubble to the surface – something she hadn't felt in a long time. It was what she felt when she was guiding Nancy Lewis all those years ago. Olivia felt her body overflowing with warmth, warmth that had to be expelled – and fast.

Then the wall in front of her exploded into flame. She had narrowly missed Dr. Montgomery, who was now cowering on the ground in pain and in fear; hopefully she wouldn't regret her decision.

Olivia stepped out of the flaming wall, jaw stern and forehead furrowed. 'Over my DEAD BODY will you continue to exploit me and imprison Nick.' She looked down at the S-Nav and turned right. 'Over – my – dead - body.'


	9. Breach Protocol

**SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"**

**Chapter 9: Breach Protocol**

* * *

**Disclaimers:** During the writing process, all of the SCP number selections I have used were / are vacant. I don't intend to publish this on the wiki, so if the series number is now taken… no1curr. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.

Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. Each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. The SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.

Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: _Bob_. Over Somewhere Else: **Bob**.

**Author's Notes:** This chapter is hella more game-based I won't even lie. Also there will be a change of pace that I'm not going to disclose here. Read up, motherblubber.

Altho referring to things as "SCPs" is incorrect in the SCP-verse, Nick & Olivia & the Fringe team don't know that. So I'm going to keep that up. So don't kill me.

**Thanks for the review, nire47. :D**

* * *

Sirens were screaming all around her. They were deafening and obnoxious.

Olivia was surprised at how empty the facility was. She had expected the place to be crawling with doctors. And she had expected a platoon of armed forces to jump out at her as soon as she walked out. But there was no one. Perhaps she was used to the constant flow of people, like in Massive Dynamic, but… this seemed more like an underground secret bunker more than anything.

_**"This side is experiencing a Euclid level containment breach. Initiate lockdown procedures. I repeat! This side is experiencing a Euclid level containment breach. Initiate lockdown procedures. All Alpha-2 units are to target and secure SCP-1428-2. Alpha-2 Task Force will then transport both specimens to Armed Bio-Containment Area-14."**_

The facility was mainly a series of empty tunnels, hollow halls, and sparse corridors. It looked… deserted. Perhaps the lockdown procedures had rendered the place a wasteland, or perhaps there were fewer people here than Olivia first assumed.

Navigating through the place was actually very simple - although the rooms DID look very similar. Olivia understood now what Dr. Montgomery meant as she passed down three round and darkened tunnels, two forked areas, and four white-walled rooms. The walls were mostly white tiles and the floors a slick grey surface; everything was white on grey or grey on white. Until she got to the corridor with darkness on every side, suspended by a metal bridge with a matching metal floor. As soon as she started stepping forward, black gas flooded in from every direction. Olivia panicked. Olivia sprinted. She hoped it was more of a poisoning system than an alert system. Her lungs, luckily, seemed to be alright, but her eyes were watering and stinging. She didn't have time for this.

When she could finally see again, Nick's series of numbers still hadn't popped up on her screen. How big WAS this place? It was **MASSIVE** for being so empty. And to think that she had been transported all over this place, without even being conscious. Olivia shook her head.

No sign of anyone so far still. Olivia certainly didn't want to run into this Alpha task force. At the moment, she was more concerned with getting Nick and leaving as soon as possible. Killing special team members was not high on her priority list. But if any of them were to get in the way of her goal - in the way of Nick or their escape - she would not hesitate to snap their necks. Or hopefully recreate that firestarter moment back from when she was still in her cell. Olivia still had no idea what had triggered her. Was it anger? How much anger? And was it a specific anger?

'Can't think. I just need to keep running.' Olivia wished she had shoes on. The metal flooring was not kind on her bare feet. But at least she was wearing clothes. A horrid white sheet of a jumpsuit, but she was still clothed. And this madness was still better than trying to escape a facility from the Other Side while in a hospital gown, slightly sedated, and hyped up on adrenaline.

More running. Now Olivia was passing abandoned computer-lab type rooms. Just desk after desk after desk. And screens. Multitudes of screens. If she had more time, she would've tried to gain access to their database. Or better yet, if she had access to Astrid... she would've had access in no time.

'Note to self: buy Astrid something nice, too.' Olivia had taken for granted their amazing R2 unit for far too long. 'Strudel for Walter and a day off for Astrid. I'll give her some money for dinner. She can go out on a date. Have a normal life - for once. She deserves it, too. No. Don't lose focus. You can plan when you're actually free, Olivia; you're not out of this mess yet.' She looked back down at the S-Nav. Nick was finally in range for his numbers to appear, but there was no circle. Olivia was still far away.

How long had it been? And where was the team sent out to collect her? Was she taking too long? Olivia kept punching the buttons for the doors to open again and again. 'I hope to fuck they aren't on the other side of one of these doors. Even **I** can't react fast enough to that.' But so far she was in the clear.

A large red circle appeared on the S-Nav. Nick was near. But with this came a sudden realization, a thought process Olivia should have had when she first bolted out of her cell and blindly followed Dr. Montgomery's programmed course. 'Will there be guards stationed outside his cell? Probably. But what do they think I'm doing? Do they know I'm making a run for Nick? Or do they think I'm going the heartless route, sprinting for the exits?' Olivia swore, '_Shit_. This is probably a horrible decision. I bet they're camped out waiting right by Nick. They KNOW how much he means to me. That goddamn Dr. Montgomery set me up, didn't she?' But it was too late to turn back.

'Damnit I haven't been closing the doors behind me. It's going to be obvious.' Olivia doubled back and closed two of the doors. 'I'm losing time no matter what I do.'

'Fuck.' Now she came to another fork - three tunnels. And the S-Nav thought it was the perfect time to malfunction. There was no red line traveling to a certain tunnel. She was in the dark.

Time to focus. 'Focus on Nick, Olivia. Just like you did in the park. Find that "feeling." Find Nick.' Olivia knew that she was leaving herself vulnerable, standing there in the middle of the tunnel, closing her eyes and hoping for the best. If one of their agents saw her, she'd be an easy shot. Right to the neck; Olivia wouldn't suspect a thing. But she NEEDED to find Nick. If she didn't find Nick, all would be lost.

_Something_ said middle tunnel. There was no time to doubt it. This was all she had; just a feeling at the bottom of her stomach. How far Olivia had fallen – from being logical and tactical to relying on sheer whispers of feelings, low probabilities of insight. 'Keep going,' that something told her. 'That's the way.' And the red line reappeared on the S-Nav. And Nick was only ten feet or so away.

But there was something right behind her, too. Another SCP that she had just passed. 'That's not important,' Olivia told herself. 'Whoever that SCP-173 is, it isn't important. You're so close now. Keep going. Don't you _dare_ lose focus now.'

These next two hallways were tricky. The doors and opening mechanisms had been designed to trip her up - anything escaping or fleeing up. The first was a timed mechanism. With a flat screen picturing, what she assumed, the room inside looked like. And from the screen, the room was red and there was foreboding black gas emitting from all of the corners. And Olivia observed that the automated door would close in seven seconds. She could do this.

Never had her heart pounded harder. Olivia knew that if she didn't make it... she would be stuck in this room. And she would die of asphyxiation. And Nick would be defenseless against those voices in the speakers and the individuals like Hendricks and **Winters**, and possibly even worse, the voices in his head. And Walter and Peter and everyone she cared about would never see her again. Everything was riding on this moment. Every. Single. Thing.

But she _did_ make it. And she walked right into another room. With the button all the _fuck_ down this other mini-hallway. And luckily the door locked automatically behind her. She had been very fortunate during her run. But she knew it wasn't going to last. Especially now that she was in the home stretch. The S-Nav told her that Nick was immediately in range.

When she opened the last door, she found herself in a long hallway with what looked to be five passageways. She could hear their collective electric hum, even though she couldn't see the energy that deceptively lay between them. She would have to time her way through the black barriers. And the guards beyond that. They had spotted her.

But Olivia didn't have time to wait for these timed gates. Olivia didn't have time for these darts and bullets being shot at her. Olivia didn't even have time to think. Again, just like before in her cell, sensations bubbled up to the surface. Perhaps the trigger was necessity. Or perhaps her abilities could be triggered just like instincts. But she didn't care.

Olivia sprinted through the gates, ignoring the fact that they were charged in the first place. She wasn't electrocuted to her death or to a grave injury. And the bullets didn't even reach her. They seemed to stop in mid-air. And then they just fell in front of her, trickling down at her feet. Olivia's brow furrowed - SHE was doing this, wasn't she? 'Don't question it. Just keep going.'

If she concentrated harder, she could send the bullets and darts back. She aimed for the guards' knees and legs. She didn't want to kill them. Not now. Getting to Nick as fast as possible was more important.

There was a slot, something you could put a card through, but she didn't have one of those. Olivia seriously suspected that Dr. Montgomery, if she really WAS trying to help Olivia, hadn't thought it all through. Perhaps it would keep her slightly in the clear, but Olivia doubted it.

"Fuck!" Olivia pounded up against the panel. It opened. But it couldn't have been through sheer strength; that would've been impossible. Olivia had generated something – some energy – that had short-circuited the unit and allowed her to pass. And she still had no idea how.

She was just as surprised that Nick was awake, but that was all the better to escape. Carrying Nick and trying to navigate through all the various obstacles would NOT have guaranteed success.

"Olive!" His face lit up, just like it had many times before. "You came for me! You came to rescue me!"

"I found you Nick, and I'm happy you're happy, but now we have to go."

* * *

Why hadn't Dr. Montgomery programmed an escape route? Had she assumed that Olivia would fail? Again, suspicious thoughts flashed through her mind. If she ever saw that Dr. Montgomery again, she would have to confront her – either to kill her or to thank her. Actually, she hoped she would never see Dr. Montgomery again. Because seeing her again would mean that Olivia had failed to escape.

"Nick, do you see anything on that map?" At this point the two of them were running aimlessly – although in the opposite direction of where Olivia had come from. But even this plan was flawed; what if the Task Force had been stationed at one of the exits and was now working their way to their current position? "Anything at all?"

"Just other SCPs, Olive. Unless THEY could help us." But Nick shuddered, "I don't think we should mess with them. It would just slow us down."

Olivia was fortunate that Nick was focused on the task at hand. But he looked battered, bruised, and gaunt. She didn't want to think about what they had subjected him to. Especially that Hendricks character.

_**"This side is experiencing multiple Euclid level containment breaches. SCP-1428-1 and SCP-1428-2 have breached together. All Alpha-2 units must target and secure both-"**_

"They wanted to take you away from me," Olivia confessed. In the event that the two of them had to fight, Olivia couldn't count on her "instincts" or her "feelings" to trigger her powers again. She needed a motivated Nick – an incensed Nick – if she wasn't already. "Dr. Montgomery warned me if I didn't save you in time, they were going to transfer you to another facility, while I would stay. I couldn't let that happen to you."

"Olive I…" Nick was first touched, and then she got the needed response. He was furious.

And just in time. When Olivia opened the door, there were six heavily armed men. Tall Navy SEAL like men.

"You can do it, Nick," Olivia whispered to him. "I believe in you. I'll help you focus on them."

Nick nodded. And together they targeted the members of the team. And forced them to shoot each other. Quick and painless, but still disturbing.

Olivia had winced when it all happened, but Nick didn't even bat an eyelash. Dr. Montgomery had been right; Nick HAD been responsible for plenty of deaths. The sight of this didn't even faze him. In fact, it excited him.

"C'mon, Olive!" Nick slid through the slick blood puddles forming on the floor. "We have to keep moving we-"

There was another team stationed behind another door. Perhaps the team dead on the floor had been a decoy.

Because now Olivia was on the floor. And so was Nick.

Their lives were over. Everything was over.

'Oh Peter I'm scared. I'm never going to see you again, am I?'

* * *

Blinding light. Burning light. Olivia scrunched her eyes. Her voice came out bitter and rough. "Oh good; you haven't killed me yet." She rapidly blinked. And she struggled inside her own limbs. She couldn't move. "Where's Nick?"

There was no one else in the room, only speakers. With that cruel SCP logo and its stupid slogan underneath it.

The apathetic female voice from before. _**"SCP-1428-1 is in its cell."**_

"Is he safe? Have you done anything to him?"

"_**No human contact is allowed. The subject is still given food and water. The subject is kept calm from the gas."**_

Olivia cringed – better than the injections or worse? And her disgust and fear turned to anger, like usual. "Why have you brought me here? What do you want from me now? I've already told you all I know."

"_**But you haven't, SCP-1428-2. You've showcased abilities we didn't know you had. Why don't you care to inform us what you REALLY are?"**_

No. No no no no, this wasn't happening. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be.

Olivia couldn't breathe. Olivia couldn't even swallow.

'That voice. That's _Walter's_ voice.'

* * *

"How are you feeling, Walter?" His father didn't have the same energy coming out of the FBI building he had coming in. "Is everything alright?" Peter already knew the answer to that question, but he asked it anyway.

Walter kept looking down at his shuffling feet, crestfallen and crushed. He swallowed and was able to force out, "I wasn't able to help Olivia, Peter. I wasn't able to tell Broyles anything of use." He paused, stopped walking, and kept glaring down, "I've failed her. I have failed Agent Dunham."

"Walter, no. Listen to me." Peter placed his right hand on his father's shoulder. "You did everything you could. Don't you **dare** try to blame yourself. This isn't your fault." Peter needed to get his father out of the dark cloud he was in. And an idea popped into his head. "How about we go to that new bakery? Get your mind off things for a bit. I heard Roses has the best bear claws in town now."

Walter brushed the idea aside. "I don't want any pastries, Peter; I want Olivia. Food is not the answer today."

Peter sighed, "I know. But you still need something to eat."

* * *

But food **had** been the answer today. And the healing properties of food never ceased to surprise Peter – or at least the healing properties of food on Walter. Peter felt much of the same. Still empty, still lost.

It had been a week now since he had last seen Olivia. And no progress whatsoever had been made. Even Astrid had been called out into the field with Lincoln, actively sweeping and sweeping and sweeping again not only the Eastern Seaboard, but the entire United States. And even hot spots Jones might have fled to in Europe. Because the only logical explanation for this HAD to be Jones. Only Jones could have the ability and the power to completely hide Olivia from the face of the earth. Only him.

And when Peter found the fucker that took his Olivia, he would have the man, men, women, or team begging for mercy, wishing that they had never been born. But he doubted he would even get _that_ opportunity at this point. Olivia had been gone for so long. Even the always motivated Broyles was losing focus, losing hope. And the Bureau was on his case about wasting resources over the likes of just _one _agent. Crimes were happening every day and teams of men that COULD be used for those issues were **still **being used to comb the streets for Olivia. It was only a matter of time until the search would be called off.

Of course the US government didn't know how important Olivia truly was, but Peter knew. And Broyles knew. And Walter and Astrid and Lincoln. But not even the most sincere of pleas would be able to win the higher-ups over. Olivia was still one agent and one agent she would remain.

And then Peter would never see Olivia again. That would be that. Olivia remembering Peter, Peter coming back into existence, all of it would have been for nothing. She would be gone and he didn't have the Cortexiphan in his system to bring her back. It was too damn cruel for it to end this way. Just when things were getting back to how they used to be, back to how they should always be…

Peter was so entranced in his own thoughts that he hadn't even realized how many bear claws Walter had actually eaten. They had gotten a dozen [Astrid and Lincoln deserved some when they came back], but Walter had already eaten half of that dozen. And he showed no sign of slowing down.

"I must say, Peter," Walter took another large bite of the sticky dough and moaned, "This truly is one of the better bear claws I have had. It reminds me of the attempts Belly and I made one night when we had a rather_ aggressive_ case of munchies."

"At this point I'm really not even surprised. Do continue, Walter." And even in his low state now, Peter couldn't help but smile as his father went on an animated tangent, explaining in great detail the proper proportions of almond paste to dough. The ranting kept Peter from his darker thoughts and he was okay with that. Walter probably would have gone for hours, and Peter would have stayed for those hours listening to him, if it weren't for the interruption.

"And the secret for perfect almond paste is to use ample amounts of- what is it, Peter? Is something the matter?"

A figure stepped into the room from the rippling fabric of time behind him. He took off his fedora and looked at the two of them. "Hello."

Peter dropped the pastry in his hand. "Walter, I think we have company."

Walter spun wildly around, "Oh, my. Do you want a bear claw, too, my good man?"

Peter would have rolled his eyes at his father's antics normally, but Peter's eyes were focused solely on September. "Walter, I don't think September is here for pastries." Peter's pulse felt like it had stopped altogether. Peter felt like his whole world had stopped altogether. "Are you here to talk about Olivia?"

September nodded, then turned his head to the side a few degrees, "Yes."

"Excellent! Finally, we have answers!" Walter shoved an entire bear claw in his mouth in great anticipation. And then replied, bits of dough and filling firing out in all directions, "I might be able to tell Broyles something of use after all!"

Peter rolled his eyes and groaned, "Walter, _please_. I…" He didn't even have the mental effort to scold Walter's inappropriate behavior. All he wanted was answers. All he wanted was Olivia. The time was now and it was finally happening.

"It has come to my understanding that," September spoke softly, yet gravely, "Olivia and the one called Nick Lane have traversed into another universe."

"Wait, Nick Lane?" Peter shook his head, "How could that be? Where did she find him?" Peter continued to shake his head – he did not trust Nick Lane. The man may have had a bond with Olivia, but the man was still a walking time bomb for those around him. And if he were ever to infect Olivia with his so-called moods… no, Peter wouldn't think about it. He was so concerned about Nick that he didn't even have time to properly absorb the "another universe" bit September had stated.

"While out on her walk, Olivia spotted Nick Lane on a park bench. There they traveled to the other universe's park bench. And now they are trapped."

**Now** it hit him. "Trapped? They can't just come back? How is this possible?" Peter's pulse was now rising, rapidly. "If they could go there in the first place, how in the hell can't they come back?" This all seemed so much worse than Olivia being trapped in an unknown Jones bunker. This was a matter much more delicate, much more severe. This was a completely separate universe, which explained why Lincoln had come back empty-handed. He had the right thought, but not the right universe. And in his defense, it's not like they _knew _about this new universe. This was the first time Peter had known about it… ever. This discovery would have excited him any other instance, but now it only terrified him. With the Other Side, there was still the unknown, the unfamiliar, but this Somewhere Else… this was a whole new world for them. This was a whole new universe of unknown possibilities. It was almost too much for Peter's mind to handle.

September blinked, not knowing exactly how to continue with the human's escalated heart rate and state of panic. But he continued nonetheless. "The softspots between this universe and the one Olivia and Nick traveled to are uneven and subject to open and close at indistinct periods. The universe the two of them are now in is also subject to time distortions. It will be difficult for the both of them to travel back under their own power."

Peter clenched and unclenched his fists, "But you're here to help us, right? You can help get them back?"

September blinked, "I cannot fetch them for you, but I can give you both insight as to how to save them. This insight alone is interfering to a dangerous degree. I cannot linger here much longer."

"Okay. That's better than nothing. Fire away."

"The softspots between what you have labeled 'Over There' and the universe Olivia is in now are much more stable. By the time you are able to build another device that can safely transport you and an armed team over, I will have secured the necessary coordinates for you to proceed."

"Wait did you just say an ARMED team?" The situation kept getting worse and worse. "Where exactly ARE they?" Peter needed to know precisely what they were getting themselves into – what exactly his other half was facing right now. Was she still alive? Was she going to be okay for the time being? Would she be safe?

"In this universe, Peter Bishop, there is no Fringe Division and there are no Fringe events. There is the SCP Foundation that studies scientific anomalies. Unfortunately, Olivia Dunham and Nick Lane are, themselves, scientific anomalies."

"And they've been captured," Peter concluded. "And what else?"

"To the best of my understanding, the Foundation is attempting to perform tests on them. They want to see what the cause of their powers is."

"But we must save Nick and Olivia before that happens," Walter finally spoke. The bear claw was gone from his mouth, save for a little icing on his upper lip. And his voice matched September's in seriousness, "I cannot let another universe get their hands on Cortexiphan, especially a universe that has no idea what they're getting into. It's all too dangerous. We must start immediately. I will secure the necessary materials and I'll go-"

"Wait, Walter. Don't you think we're rushing into things?" As much as Peter wanted to just jump into a softspot and run after Olivia, they couldn't. There were steps, processes, people involved.

Walter looked at Peter as if he were daft, "Didn't you hear what the Observer said? We NEED to act _immediately_. We need to act now! Before it's too late!"

"Well we can't just start up on a new science project without Broyles knowing of it. Or Astrid. Or Lincoln. And you think they're all just going to let us waltz into the Other Side without any clearance? Without any plan? And do you think the Other Side is just going to be perfectly okay with us constructing a machine there or bringing a machine through the bridge? We're still on shaky terms with them, Walter; they may not even let us in. And even if we lie to them, it's only a matter of time until they find out and war breaks loose between us – something we do NOT need right now. We all need to take a deep breath and think before we can continue."

"Y-you're right, Peter." Walter pulled the instruments he was hastily sticking into his coat pockets back down on the counter's surface. "But the more we wait, the less time Olivia and Nick have."

Walter was completely right and that's what worried Peter. They still didn't have enough information to continue on with a device. Putting things up to chance and hoping Walter could remember the exact specifics of something was not the best option. And even if Walter COULD recreate the machine he used to steal Peter – steal _him_ – from the Other Side, would it even work? This was another universe entirely; it vibrated at a completely different frequency – a frequency none of them even knew. And this new universe may be even more delicate than Over There and as a result, the instruments they need to use may have to be more precise, but to what degree? They were further in the dark now than they were two hours ago.

"September what else-" But he was gone. The Observer had stepped back into his rippling curtain of reality and had disappeared from sight.

Peter sighed, "Great."

* * *

The two of them were almost at the FBI building. Again.

"What's going on in there, Walter?" His father had been noticeably silent on the car trip over. Which was peculiar. Because usually Walter found something – anything – to talk about. On the car ride back it had been the attendant with the "rather large piercings in her ears." Walter had marveled on and on about how much the ear lobe had stretched, almost to its very extremes, to fit around this cork of an object. He wanted to very much go back just to talk to her. Because she was pretty, too. But now, silence. And a sustained silence that Peter knew too well. "What's on your mind?"

"I swore that I would not interfere with another universe for the sake of someone I loved."

"Walter-" Normally this would have been a time to pull over the car and have an extended heart-to-heart chat, but they were running against the clock and Peter really didn't want to anyway. "I understand that, but-"

"I **know **that it's Olivia." He voice suddenly fell to a faint hush of itself. "I know that. But… to rip a hole in another universe… to cause havoc to their world and to the Other Side's… I'm not sure I can do that again." Walter shut his eyes and winced, "I'm not that kind of person anymore. I don't want to put other people at risk just for my own selfish desires, Olivia or no Olivia. I don't want to go down that path again."

"Well you may not have to." Peter frowned, "We still have to go through Broyles and Walternate. They may not even agree to this rescue mission."

"Maybe it's better that way," Walter muttered hastily under his breath.

"Did you say something, Walter?"

"No. Nothing, Peter. Oh! Look at that poodle over there. Such an odd animal, poodles."


	10. The A-Team

**SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"**

**Chapter 10: The A-Team**

* * *

**Disclaimers:** During the writing process, all of the SCP number selections I have used were / are vacant. I don't intend to publish this on the wiki, so if the series number is now taken… I DON'T GIVE A FUCK FUCK IT. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.

Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. Each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. The SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.

Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: _Bob_. Over Somewhere Else: **Bob.**

**Author's Notes:** I don't know about you, but I am so happy to be writing more Fringe-based things. Like holy balls this is such a wonderful change.

But at the same time, I've been so caught up with Nick & Olivia… it was hard writing OTHER characters again. I don't want to count how many times I got stuck.

* * *

"So what you're trying to say… is that there is an entirely _new_ universe, beyond ours and the Other Side? And that our Olivia Dunham is stuck in that universe, along with another Cortexiphan subject, Nick Lane?" Broyles lay back in his seat, trying to process it all. "And that you got all of this information from an Observer, no less?"

"Yes," Walter Bishop enthusiastically nodded his head. "He appeared right in the middle of my bear claw-eating. Oh, I should have brought some for you, Agent Broyles. They were quite good you see."

If Walter was going to go off on one of his tangents again, Peter recognized that he would have to take over. Like always. "September also explained to us that the softspots between our universe and **that** universe are unstable. The softspots are much more stable on the Other Side, so if we were to enact a rescue mission, that would be our best shot. But of course September didn't mention how we're supposed to convince them. And he didn't mention much of the specifics of the machine we have to build. Or where to go after we build such a machine." September hadn't told them much of anything.

"In his defense, the man was rather in a hurry. He's done enough for us already. Now we know that Agent Dunham is okay!" Walter couldn't help but jump up in the air and clack his heels together. "It's the best news we've received yet!"

Walter was being… Walter. Peter continued, "But September also shared who's keeping Olivia and Nick." Peter swallowed painfully; he couldn't share his father's enthusiasm and excitement, given the circumstances. Olivia was alive, but he didn't know for how long.

"Who?" Broyles leaned forward. "_Who_ are we talking about here?"

Peter carried on, hesitantly, "The universe they're in is much like ours, except there's no Fringe division. The group that studies odd scientific phenomenon is called the SCP Foundation. And because Nick and Olivia are odd scientific phenomenon…"

"They're in the hands of this SCP Foundation." Broyles folded his hands and pressed them to his lips. "This is certainly a major turn of events, Peter Bishop; graver than we first thought." He closed his eyes and pursed his lips, "I thought David Robert Jones would be the most of our worries, but now we have _another _universe to worry about; a universe that doesn't even know that we exist, for the most part – which gives us an advantage. But this universe operates much differently than ours and is still relatively unknown." He opened his eyes and looked at the two of them, "What exactly do you need?"

"Wait, so you're just going to okay this yourself? You're not going to talk to anyone else?" Peter was skeptical to say the least. "Don't more people need to know? This is a highly delicate operation so-"

"If we don't get the Other Side's approval, telling those people would be pointless. And besides," Broyles got up and straightened his shirt, "It might be better to keep these matters… _classified _between us, being as delicate as it is.

"And even if I told those people now, we're only going off the words of _one _man; we don't have a lot of evidence aiding us. With the Other Side, there is something tangible for them to understand – a bridge. There are tangible doppelgangers; there are tangible effects and tangible threats. But up until now, this universe did not exist and for these men, until they _see_ something of value or some threat that needs resolving – beyond that of an agent missing – they won't believe us." Broyles swayed to pick up his coat behind his desk. And he continued to speak as he hastily pulled it on. "After I get the needed clearance, I will be accompanying you to the Other Side."

"The needed clearance to speak with…?" But Peter already knew the answer to that question.

"With _Secretary Bishop._"

* * *

The three men stepped through the bridge to the Other Side.

Broyles still had his doubts. _Walter_ was still a wild card. _ He_ had been responsible for Olivia's capture and imprisonment not too long ago. Broyles doubted he would be able to play the 'we refuse to leave no agent left behind' card with the likes of him. But playing up the threat of a new universe with this SCP Foundation… it could work to his – to their – advantage. Of course, that was assuming_ Walter_ would believe them. The word of one Observer… it seemed too precarious.

And that wasn't even counting the fact that they needed to use _their _side to get to Olivia, using some device that could possibly undo all of the recent healing of their world. And tearing the fabric of their universe just to save one agent and a civilian? It was unlikely that the Other Side would agree to such a proposal. _Walter_ already harbored hatred for their side, for being responsible for the damage in the first place. And now they wanted to inflict possibly_ more_ damage?

"September mentioned no **other **solution to saving Dunham?" Broyles asked. He had his doubts. He was hesitant. He wouldn't hold his breath for _Walter's_ approval.

"Unfortunately no." Peter turned to Broyles. "You're seeing all the cracks in the plan, aren't you?"

Broyles nodded, "Too much hangs in the balance. Every angle points to Walternate vetoing us down cold."

"_What _about _Secretary Bishop_ are we talking about, gentlemen?"

Peter's eyes shot up at _Olivia. _He wasn't expecting to see her again, especially like this.

She rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her black windbreaker, snarling, "First Agent Lee, now the three of you? Is there something I should know?"

"I'm not sure you have the proper clearance to ask us that question," Broyles countered, coldly.

"Oh really?" She arched her eyebrows and blocked the door behind her, "Let me guess – my doppelganger is still hopelessly lost and you need to use some equipment to find her sorry ass?"

"How DARE you talk to Olivia like that, you _**vile viper vessel!**_" The insults rolled off of Walter's tongue. And with the insults, came projectile spitting – much to the disgust of Peter, who was standing right next to him and getting an ample amount of the saliva blast. "Don't you _dare_ think I've forgotten about you and your twisted schemes. Your _vagenda_ will not triumph over man today; we – shall – pass!" Walter put down an imaginary staff, hoping to command her out of the way.

It didn't work.

_Olivia_ looked at the man blankly, and then looked to Peter, seeking for guidance to comprehend his mess of a father. And then to Broyles, hoping to understand whatever the hell was going on in the first place. The HELL was this band of hooligans barging in for?

"Y'know I think we should just tell her." Peter knew he would sound crazy – especially to his father – but it was worth a shot. "Now listen to me Walter, before you start frothing at the mouth. We need someone who knows the _Secretary_, well enough to negotiate for our cause. And if the negotiation pans out, we need someone to help form the support team – someone with high enough clearance to truly understand what we're doing. And dare I say it… we need someone that we can trust." Peter looked deep into _Olivia's _eyes, which were the same color as his Olivia's, possibly even deeper in tone. "Walter may not trust you, Broyles may not even trust you, but **I **do. You're good at your job, _Agent Dunham_, and we could use you here."

_Olivia_ folded and unfolded her arms across her chest as she turned over the compliment, along with the hidden plea, in her mind. Finally she planted her arms on her hips and spoke, "What kind of a situation are we talking about?"

* * *

Peter finished explaining the entirety of it all to her. They were in a small conference room, not far from the bridge. The three of them were on one side of the table and _Olivia_ was on the other.

It was amusing to watch her face fall as she comprehended the severity of the issue – and all the issues with the solution to the problem. And just her constant state of motion. One minute she would have her feet up on the table; the next, she would be twiddling her thumbs next to her breasts; the next, she would be resting her chin on both her hands, tapping and shaking her legs nervously. She was Olivia and yet… she wasn't.

Now her arms were behind her neck while the rest of her body leaned back in her chair. Her posture may have been relaxed, but her voice shook. "But in order to do this… you have to rip open the universes again?"

"Not necessarily." This was the first time Walter had spoken since he slandered the agent. "I could refine my device to slide open the seams between the universes, rather than rip them. I understand how vital the bridge and its healing have been to your world. Believe me when I say that we do NOT want to disrupt it."

"And you shouldn't," _Olivia_ snapped, violently leaning forward and sending her red hair in every which direction. "It's already fragile to begin with and…" She shook her head, hair still cascading around her, "I've gotten used to freeing people _from _amber, as opposed to sealing them_ in_ amber. I've gotten used to a much more stable and safer world. And the everyday people… they shouldn't have to be blasted back into that hell just because of _**one person**_. Why should _their_ lives, _their _safety, _their_ world, hang in the balance just for the sake of your agent? And then some other man that I don't even know about."

There it was – the needs of the many versus the needs of the few. Broyles was afraid they would run into that same roadblock with the man who REALLY made the decisions. But now was the perfect time to test his bait.

Broyles put his hands and his words on the table. "As Peter told you, the SCP Foundation is holding Olivia captive. At this point in time, we're not sure if they know of_ our_ universes. But if they do, we can't afford to take chances. An entire foundation obsessed on scientific anomalies sounds like a government-funded David Roberts Jones brigade just waiting for the right moment to strike. And with the delicate matter of Cortexiphan up for grabs… **I **can't leave anything up to mere chance.

"_Agent Dunham_. I applaud your commitment and duty not only to your job, but to your universe. And that is precisely why we need you. We don't know what we're facing with here. This Foundation could be peaceful, purely knowledge-based and knowledge-motivated, but it could not. The Observer specifically mentioned that we need an **armed **team – that doesn't cry out purely educational to me. In the event that they have their own guards, perhaps their own small militia, we need _your_ assistance and we need the assistance of _your universe _to subdue this Foundation and save our agent and another innocent person's in the worst case scenario, this SCP Foundation may be a threat the **both** us will have to face in the future. And I say it's better we face the issue now, while we still can, rather than later."

_Olivia _looked down at her hands, swallowing and continually folding and rubbing them. She took a shuddering breath and looked up at the ceiling. She blinked rapidly as she tried to form words. After a few minutes of nervous silence, "Ultimately it's not my decision; it's _Walter's_. I don't see why you're so desperately trying to sway _me_."

"We need to speak to the _Secretary_, but we also need _you_."

She tentatively swallowed, eyes still wavering, breath still shaking, "Okay. But I'm not sure if this is all going to work."

Peter got up from his seat, "Even if he vetoes it, we'll probably go through with it all anyway. It's the Bishop way."

* * *

_Walter_ was seated at his desk.

The four filed in. Or three filed in and one skipped in, tripped a little bit when he saw _Walter_, and hid behind Peter.

"_Agent Dunham?_ I wasn't expecting you." _Walter_ looked her up and down. "Are you with them, or is there another matter I need to oversee?"

"They've enlisted me for their cause, sir." _Olivia_ would've smiled if the issue had been lesser, but it wasn't. And she still didn't think they had a shot of winning the man over.

"And you're here to help sweeten the deal?" _ Walter_ sighed. "Fine. Proceed then, _Olivia_. Tell me everything they told you."

Walter began to zone out. At first, he thought about all of the abstract paintings and miscellaneous art pieces on the walls. They were all very pleasant, like the paintings Nina used to make when she joined them [a rare occasion] on one of his and William's LSD trips. Especially the one with the purple swooshes immediately behind _Walter_. Walter was absolutely positive that Nina had drawn the same thing however many years prior. Perhaps it had made its way to the other universe without their knowing? Or perhaps a shared consciousness over this same scene happened with another person in this universe? He would have to look into it.

But then… Walter thought about the room in general. And the man in front of him in general.

Seeing your double puts your own life into perspective. What have you done with YOUR life, versus the similar being in front of you? Walter pondered this. This man, unlike Walter, had not gone to St. Claire's. The man in front of him was mentally sound – sound enough to be trusted with a government position in the Department of Defense. And the man oversaw everything there was with Fringe science and Fringe events. He was the man Walter used to be… and even more powerful than that.

Quite frankly, Walter was jealous. Like Olivia had been jealous of her doppelganger's life without Cortexiphan-induced struggles, Walter was jealous of this man and his success – free from the physical and moral complications stealing a child and living with the consequences brings. The objects in this room, and everything the room stood for, mocked Walter. _This_ Walter had everything he did not. This man was wearing an expensive suit, the finest money could buy, while Walter was slathered in dull, rough browns and greys. And a childish floppy hat to top it all off. Walter spoke in sharp spasms and rhythmic jolts, while this man's cadence was smooth, calm, and commanding. He was a presence – a force – to be reckoned with, while Walter was just a senile old man who sometimes got things right. Walter was a man constantly distracted by immature fixations; this man let nothing stand in the way of his goals. Absolutely nothing.

At least, that was what it looked like on the surface. But the surface was all Walter cared about. He still saw _Olivia_ simply as a harlot with a vagenda, not the actual complex human being that Peter saw her to be. To Walter still, this woman was less than human; this woman had wronged him and was incapable of gaining – of deserving - forgiveness or even humanity [not now, maybe not even ever.] The scar had faded over time, over recent events since the two sides were in closer contact and cooperation, but the scar still remained. She was still a viper and Walternate would be the master of ALL vipers.

"Walter? He asked you a question." Peter had been shaking Walter's arm for quite some time now; he just didn't recognize it.

"Oh, dear me." He looked back up to the_ Walter_ in front of him. "What did you say?"

"Approximate what you'll be doing in my universe."

His voice _bled_ importance. And power. His voice was not meek or gravitating toward the irrational. _He _was almost a perfect Walter, a_ better_ Walter, and a Walter he would never be. Walter was overcome with waves of inadequacy, causing his voice and his hands to tremor, "I'm not entirely sure about the specifics. I'll need to find my old plans of the device-"

"The device capable of ripping apart and destroying worlds." _Walter's _eyes narrowed, voice cold and calculating to the core. "Go on."

Walter even shivered at this man, this man so much his opposite. "W-well yes, but I am hoping to build a _newer _device. H-hopefully one which will do less damage to this world, and to the other universe we need to cross into."

"Hopefully? You don't sound as confident as _Agent Dunham_ led me to believe."

Peter recognized that Walter needed help. He was swimming in fear, just being in the presence of this man. Peter would have to look into it later, but that was later. "We didn't get the best advice from September. We don't know exactly how to tune the device – what frequency that universe vibrates at. We don't even know where we'll need to put the device. We're really waiting for a return visit. In the meantime, Walter needs to find the plans and stand-by."

Broyles, who had been silent, finally decided to speak. "But you won't help us, will you?" He saw the look in _Walter's_ eyes. He knew the bitterness that lay within. "I am here – we are all here – because we want to save two innocent lives. We are not here to steal from a universe that which is not ours. We will not interfere with their universe, or with your universe, to an unnecessary degree."

"But what am I supposed to trust, Agent Broyles? Your **word**?" _Walter_ pounded his fist against his desk, like Zeus throwing a bolt of lightning from Mount Olympus. He proceeded to snarl, "This man in front of me, I _cannot _trust his word. I_ cannot_ trust a man that downright _**stole**_ something right from under me. I cannot be expected to trust a man of **HIS** character."

'The thing he stole is standing right in front of you,' Peter wanted to retort, but he bit his tongue. He tried to work at it from another angle. "You can supervise the creation of the machine. In fact, it might be best if the two of you work together on this. It'll be double the expertise, double the input. Walter can perfect the design of the device and you can minimize the negative effects on your world."

"Peter, why would you even suggest that? The man HATES me and I will not deny: the feeling is still mutual." Walter narrowed his eyes at his doppelganger, who narrowed _his_ back at him. The tension could only be cut with a freshly sharpened saw.

"I doubt I would be able to work with such a _selfish_ being,"_ Walter_ hissed.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," _Olivia_ put her hands up, hoping to barter a truce. "We need to think about the big picture; put your petty little strife aside." She leaned in, "Permission to speak freely, sir."

"You could have asked that sooner, _**Agent Dunham**_." _ Walter_ did not like being referred to as a gentleman with a petty strife, but he would allow her to continue. "But permission granted."

"We have the opportunity to save two innocent lives, sir. We have the opportunity to cooperate on something, something that could protect _both_ universes. This SCP Foundation is a threat until proven otherwise. If they somehow developed the technology to jump to either universe, who knows what could come of our worlds?"

"I am especially concerned for Olivia's sake." Walter looked at her double. She had red hair and a much different disposition, but she still had that face. And those same eyes, even if they were a bit darker, but a lot more cheerful. But in that moment, talking to his doppelganger, she sounded like their Olivia. In that moment, those eyes _did_ look the same and that face _was_ the same. In that moment… He continued, "If they were to find out the true specifics of Cortexiphan, whether by harming her or by any other means… they could reproduce it. They could put it into their own children and create human weapons. And because I doubt there are no specialists on Cortexiphan in their universe, they WILL make mistakes – catastrophic mistakes. They will either harm their children, harm their world, harm _OUR_ worlds, or a combination of those three scenarios."

"Nick Lane, as it's come to our understanding, is a ticking time bomb," Peter added. Finally, they were gaining some ground. "If they find out how to manufacture more abilities like his… who knows how many deaths will be on their hands. We have a responsibility to prevent that from happening."

"And besides, Olivia means so much to me, and to the rest of us." Walter looked back at his double now, hoping to stir up the little humanity this man had left. "And to this universe. She is the strongest, but I fear for her safety. We must unite to protect her. She is the guardian of our universes and now she's been taken Somewhere Else. She isn't safe, ergo **we** are not safe."

"What do you mean, the strongest?" _ Olivia_ hadn't been exposed to this kind of rhetoric before. Sure she had heard about her double's drug-induced abilities, but what was this about being the strongest? About her being a guardian? Was she some kind of superhero?

Walter turned to her, "Belly and I always knew that she would be the best soldier in the coming war. Perhaps the war **is** coming, and she's not even here to fight it."

"What WAR?" _Walter_ was riled up now. "War with whom? The other universe? **Our **universe? What? I demand to know, as someone vital to protecting my own world."

"Who knows. Perhaps with David Robert Jones, perhaps with this new universe; I can't seem to remember who's who now," Walter's brow was furrowed, but was hidden underneath his hat. "But the fact of the matter remains: we must SAVE Olivia. We must save her before the other universe has time to find out her secrets – and Nick's secrets. We must save her in order to save ourselves."

"And we have to hurry." Broyles looked at all of the people gathered in the room. "David Robert Jones and his men are still terrorizing at large. If he were to find out we were down an agent, especially an agent as talented as Olivia, he might get wise – try to plan something big. We need to take action immediately." Broyles faced the man at the desk, the man with the power, "What say you, _Secretary Bishop_?"

The man was silent, lost in thought. He was turning over every possibility, weighing every option. That's why he was picked for this job – because of his intellect. And now…

"Fine. I will allow it. And I will oversee Dr. Bishop's construction of the device." His colder eyes burrowed into Walter's, "I will accept nothing less than minimal damage. MINIMAL. I don't want to have to explain to the President of the United States why the end of the world is coming."


	11. Identity

**SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"**

**Chapter 11: Identity**

* * *

**Disclaimers:** During the writing process, all of the SCP number selections I have used were / are vacant. I don't intend to publish this on the wiki, so if the series number is now taken… I DON'T GIVE A FUCK FUCK IT. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.

Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. Each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. The SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.

Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: _Bob_. Over Somewhere Else: **Bob.**

**Author's Notes:** I was stuck on this chapter for a long time. But then me getting stuck also helped me – it changed how the chapter played out. It was originally going to be a lot more Olivia-based, but then it turned into more of a Doctor-focused chapter. & the story needed one.

I've also come up with an indicator of true success for this story: if Markiplier reads this, likes this, & encourages others to do so, then I have truly made it. I'm kidding. I'm not kidding. I don't know about my life anymore.

* * *

_Cortexichildren_

**Item #:** SCP-1428

**Object Class:** Euclid

**Special Containment Procedures:** SCP-1428-1 and SCP-1428-2 are to be contained in separate five-by-five meter rooms and must be sedated at all times. A constant flooding of Class A sedatives in gaseous form will be used to keep the subjects in a docile, non-violent state. Direct and sustained contact from unauthorized personnel with either subject is prohibited. Violators will be immediately terminated to prevent further deaths via the hosts. Food and water must be provided three times a day through the airlock tubes installed in their cells. Separation of the two humanoid hosts has been authorized indefinitely.

**Transportation Procedures:** Under no circumstances is SCP-1428-1 to be transported individually. And under no circumstances is SCP-1428-1 to be removed from its containment cell.

While SCP-1428-2 is being transported from its cell to a research facility, the highest sedatives must be used at all times. Upon entering the cell, Class A sedatives must be administered immediately and must continue to be administered until the subject is docile and cooperative enough to move without incident. Those transporting and those having any other form of contact with the subject must have Class A sedatives on them at all times. Once the subject has been successfully transferred to a secure research room, sedatives given to the subject will be lowered to Class B. Once questioning and research have finished, repeat transportation procedures.

**Description:** SCP-1428 is an unknown chemical substance called Cortexiphan. The Foundation assumes that it is man-made, but the exact nature of its ingredients are unknown at present time.

SCP-1428 was given to SCP-1428-1 and SCP-1428-2 as children [exact ages unknown] during the drug trials [DATA REDACTED]. The administering and activation of SCP-1428 spawned the abilities SCP-1428-1 and SCP-1428-2 now possess. However the way of administration, amount needed to trigger the onset of such abilities, and the specifics of the activation process are unknown.

SCP-1428, according to SCP-1428-2, acts on the host's perception, allowing for the control of the reality around it. It widens the possibilities and awareness of each host's mind uniquely, which may explain the stark differences between SCP-1428-1 and SCP-1428-2. Although despite their differences [or perhaps because of them], during the drug trials, SCP-1428-1 and SCP-1428-2 were paired together, forming a psychic bond. The strength and specifics of this bond are unknown, but according to SCP-1428-2, it can sense SCP-1428-1's presence and emotional state, especially in times of heightened stress. SCP-1428-1, before dual containment had been granted, expressed a frantic desire to be reunited with SCP-1428-2. SCP-1428-2 especially harbors protective feelings toward SCP-1428-1. When SCP-1428-2 learned that SCP-1428-1 was going to be moved to an armed containment facility, it breached, successfully negotiated its way to SCP-1428-1, and attempted to escape with SCP-1428-1. When both hosts are separate from each other, the two frequently demand to know where the other is and express great concern in the other's welfare.

SCP-1428-1 is a white male of average height with blond hair and blue eyes. It refers to itself as "Nick." SCP-1428-1 is a reverse-empath, with the capability of transferring its emotions to those around it. SCP-1428-1 is emotionally unstable and highly suicidal. It is prone to self-hatred and self-harm, which are highly dangerous when they are transferred to innocents around it. The violent manifestations of SCP-1428-1 are varied, ranging from [DATA REDACTED] to even the most brutal displays of [DATA REDACTED]. The range of these abilities and whether only negative emotions can transfer to humans around it is unknown. So far SCP-1428-1 has been responsible for ██ Foundation deaths.

SCP-1428-2 is a white female of average height with blonde hair and hazel eyes. It refers to itself as "Olivia." According to SCP-1428-1, SCP-1428-2 is the stronger of the two. Prior to its containment breach, SCP-1428-2's known abilities were: abnormal acute hearing; the power to manipulate certain metals; and the ability to see different outcomes and potential futures. However during its breach, SCP-1428-2 displayed signs of pyrokinesis, telekinesis, and electricity manipulation. SCP-1428-2 expresses that it lacks adequate control of its abilities. So far SCP-1428-2 has been responsible for ██ Foundation deaths.

During the event [DATA REDACTED], SCP-1428-2 was seen trying to calm SCP-1428-1 down from its suicidal state. However, SCP-1428-2 failed, resulting in [DATA REDACTED]. During this event, SCP-1428-2 expressed concern for the innocent people affected. However, the extent of these feelings is unknown.

**Note-02:** All unauthorized contact is prohibited. SCP-1428-1's empathic abilities are too great and our understanding of SCP-1428-2's abilities has only just begun.

**[[THE INFORMATION BELOW IS FOR PERSONNEL WITH LEVEL 4 CLEARANCE AND ABOVE ONLY]]**

…

**Addendum-06: **Neither host must be allowed to breach again. There have been too many fatalities. SCP-1428-1's effects on people have been… disturbing. And SCP-1428-2's growing hostility and increasing instances of violence is a topic of great concern.

**O5-2 :** The O5 still stand with the original Euclid rating. These events, however troubling, do not remotely resemble a XK scenario. SCP-1428-2 will undergo questioning today. Whoever helped it escape will be immediately terminated via firing squad.

* * *

**Log 1428-2-11:**

_Dr. J. Kwon:_

I think it's safe to say that **Dr. Warren** and I have made a break through.

After hours of testing SCP-1428-2's blood, we've found some interesting results:

SCP-1428-2's blood contains elevated amounts of [DATA REDACTED], trace amounts of [DATA REDACTED], abnormal amounts of [DATA REDACTED], and the presence of [DATA REDACTED], which is not seen in normal humans.

* * *

**Personal Log of Dr. Jung Kwan:**

The results of the blood test prove more than promising. I wonder if those measurements are the secret to unlocking Cortexiphan. Are those the building blocks for creating it?

I can see myself in the O5 Command already. And I can see the removal of Dr. Hendricks and the promotion of **Dr. Warren**, too. Everything is in position. The time has come.

* * *

**Personal Log of Dr. Brenda Montgomery:**

I'm still new around here. And because I'm so new, I don't exactly know who has access to these personal logs. I'm not sure how secure this all is. But I have to get this off my chest. It's burning me up inside:

What exactly IS humanity? Where do we draw the line between something that is human and something that is humanoid? This job requires that I draw a line and yet… I find myself unable to do so. And because I'm unable to do so, I'm looked at as a lesser being – some idiot that shouldn't even be here but by the grace of _affirmative action_. My colleagues mock me, reprimand me, and threaten me because I can't draw this distinction. But no one will tell me the finite answer: WHAT is the distinction? WHERE is the line? What is the list I have to check off in my mind? What are the diagnostics and guidelines for me to follow?

I've been taught to value the humanity of a person, no matter how small – even _traces _of humanity in a _thing_. And I believe that… that "it" is human. And thus I believe that "it" has value.

I've heard that there's a difference between a human with abilities and a humanoid with scientific anomalies, but somehow that does not apply here. Why doesn't it apply here? What makes this Foundation so different? Why does everyone around me conduct themselves in such a cold, removed manor?

Was it a mistake to come here? Should I have worked at Zoetics instead?

* * *

"_**Why don't you care to inform us what you REALLY are?"**_

Olivia's throat seized up. She couldn't breathe, let alone speak.

'That's Walter's voice. But how? How could that be? Unless-'

No. No this was the absolute worst case scenario she could ever come up with. She had been put in a containment cell, she had been tested on, she had been tortured… and it had all been **Walter's** doing. The Walter of this universe was with the likes of _them._

Suddenly nothing was safe. Olivia wasn't safe; Nick wasn't safe; the secrets they held were far from safe. **Walter **would find out. **Walter** had the intellect – because a version of him had created the substance in the first place. And another version of him had correctly isolated and recreated Cortexiphan and used it for his side. Surely **this** Walter, this mastermind, could do something similar, if not worse. He was the enemy she knew nothing about.

But despite the odds stacked against her, she still wouldn't tell them – tell him. They would have to force the information out of her dead body. Only when she was DEAD would her body unlock its secrets. And even then, they – _he _– still wouldn't get everything they wanted. She could not trust ANY information with that man, a man as motivated as him, with no sense of morals or ethics when it came to greatness, hubris, godliness. Being part of the O5 class probably was god status for these SCP fucks. He was far greater than anything Walter ever had or tried to become.

Why did she fail? Why couldn't they have escaped? Now their fate was sealed. Now there was no hope to be found. She could kiss Peter and any chance of having a normal life good-bye. She would be a lab rat and a prisoner for the rest of her life. And she would be indirectly the cause of so many innocent deaths, so much suffering.

And even worse, they were probably going to question her about her release. They HAD to have known that someone helped her. Surely they couldn't be _**that **_stupid, right? Nick and her were spotted with a S-Nav with a calibrated route; they _knew _where they were going. And only someone with the proper clearance could have given Olivia that information. It couldn't have been a guard or one of those D-class personnel; it had to have been a Doctor or higher.

Olivia looked up. Through a pane of glass, directly in front of her, she saw a panel of doctors. They were probably too terrified to come any closer to Olivia [she couldn't blame them.] She also had no idea when they had arrived.

But Olivia did notice that Dr. Montgomery was amongst them. And that she looked quite worse for wear. Her normally dark face was ashen, pale. She was sweating, shaking. It was so painfully obvious to the point that Olivia wanted to get up, blast through the glass, and slap the woman; she had every tell showing in the book. Unless she could play it off like she was coming down the flu, the Foundation would find her guilty. And she would break. She would crack faster than Nick. And then any small glimmer of help would be gone. It would be Nick and Olivia versus the world – versus the Foundation – with no chance of hope left.

And this SCP Foundation was hoping for Olivia to break. And if she didn't… she would probably face the consequences. Death would be a gift for her.

"_**Who was it that helped you, SCP-1428-2? Who gave you that S-Nav and set you free**_?" It was Walter's voice again.

Olivia couldn't help but shudder from that low, menacing tone. Even the Walter of the Other Side could not compare to the sheer power of this man. Even _Walter_ had humanity. But this version… any traces of humanity had long since expired. Any traces of a conscience, of compassion, pity, or any emotion, had long since disintegrated from his system completely.

But she would hold her ground against this disembodied voice. Because this** Walter **was still only a voice; she did not see him and his truly appalling face. As long as he kept himself distanced from her, she would remain strong.

And she had another thing going for her – an ace in the hole: the fact that she KNEW who he was. It was only one man on a panel of unknown potential, but it was a start. And it was something she would keep in her pocket.

She smirked at the speaker, smirked directly at the man behind it, behind the veil of power. "I won't say another word to you the likes of you."

* * *

**Personal Log of Dr. Wallace Hendricks:**

SCP-1428-2's status has been elevated since the recent breach. The situation has only gotten graver. And there are less and less staff qualified to deal with the matter. For that reason and for that reason only… I am being kept on this project. I'm walking on the smallest of wires. The margin of error, the expectation of perfection… I thought it was unbearable a week ago, but it's _stifling_ now.

I should consider myself lucky, because they're offering to turn a blind eye. And I DO consider myself lucky. And I'm not going to turn this down, but… something tells me that I should.

I'm slipping. Being in contact with SCP-1428-1… it's pushed me to the brink. I'm _especially_ susceptible to it. And I'm surprised that no one has noticed – not even Dr. Kwon and all his supposed brilliance. I want to alert everyone, because I am potentially endangering this whole operation, but I don't want to see Dr. Kwon's smug face when I admit defeat. When I admit that I am a coward.

No. I can't lose it. And I can't let myself be brought down to **Dr. Winters'** sadistic ways, either. I can't fall into drastic measures. And yet… I **RESENT** that SCP-1428-1 and its power. I** RESENT** the fact that it can make me feel like a helpless human being, completely devoid of any substance, of any worth in this world. Even now, I can barely keep myself under control. Even now, when I'm not even in direct contact with the organism, I feel these urges… and I gratify them. I cut into myself – just a little bit, but I do. I can't let my colleagues see all the little lines covering my wrists. I can't let anyone see. I don't even know if I should be writing this. Do the O5 have access to personal files? Oh god.

How many close calls have I had with the SCP-1428-1? 3? 4? I'm the sole survivor, out of every single empathic event. I see everyone else busting their heads open, slicing their necks up, strangling themselves with their innards… and yet I remain. I'm still here. Does the host single me out to live every time? Does it _know_ about its effects on me?

And the host has killed SO MANY good doctors. Some of them were my friends. Some of them I didn't even know, but… they were still human. And now they're dead. And it's all _**its **_fault.

I've had problems removing my feelings from situations in the past – I understand that; it's a character flaw and I should be working on it. But… no other SCP experience has prepared me for this. I've had to deal with colleagues dying, yes… but never in such a brutal way. Or in such a personal way. I've never seen so many die right in front of me. I've never had an organism literally control me, driving me to madness. I've never felt THIS much of a grudge or THIS much hatred. Or fear. I'm afraid of what it can do – especially after the breach. And I'm afraid of what **I **will do in light of the breach.

And now I have reason to fear SCP-1428-2. It used to be almost harmless, only yelling at us empty threats. But now… it can burst through walls with fire; it can deflect bullets in mid-air; it can bend electricity to its will. It's even more powerful than SCP-1428-1. The possibilities of its power… it's seemingly limitless. It truly IS the stronger one of the two. Why didn't we listen to it?

And what about the rest of the potential Cortexichildren? What have we done? How many more innocent people will have to die, if all these potential hosts have powers like the specimens we have here? Would we be able to contain them all? Do we **want** to contain them all? Should I put a stop to all of this – to SCP-1428-1's reign of terror and SCP-1428-2's breaches? Is that what I have to do? Is that my true purpose, instead of scientific brilliance?

I can't even think straight anymore.

* * *

"Olive? Olive, where are you? I… I can't see. I can't see, Olive! Are you in here with me?"

He woke up in blackness, blackness everywhere. Was he blind or was the room made of blackness, the same blackness the demons in his mind were made of?

"Olive?! Answer me! Please!" His voice broke. He was broken. Everything was broken.

His voice echoed in the black room. It terrified him. It made his blood boil. It made his skin crawl. It made his lungs contract and his voice shrivel to a wretched whimper. "I… I can't do this anymore. You've beaten me. You've won. Can you hear me? Leave Olive alone. Let her go."

But no one was listening to him, were they? He was forgotten, wasn't he? Just like he always was. Even in this scientific hell hole, nothing had changed. He was still alone.

* * *

Olivia didn't know how many hours she spent glaring at the panel, at the speaker, at the stupid logos plastered on the walls. But she remained silent. They flooded gas into the room, the same funny orange color the injections were, but she yielded nothing. And the gas was all they had. They weren't going to try electricity again. She would only bend it to her will – or did they know that? They had made so many blunders before.

Olivia was stone cold, stone silent. She was relentless in her resolve – so relentless that much of the panel had left. They had given up in mass exasperation and disbelief; how could a specimen hold out for so long? Dr. Montgomery had been the first to get up and leave. Olivia hoped it didn't cause any suspicion. But her exit was the one that initiated the chain reaction.

Now only three remained. And Hendricks was among them. Along with that nasty **Dr. Winters**. And another doctor with features she just couldn't make out.

**Walter's** voice had stopped ordering a few hours ago. The apathetic female had taken over, but she hadn't said much. It was a waiting game between the command and Olivia. And they were losing.

Olivia stared right in the direction of Hendricks, as if to taunt him. He squirmed under her gaze, causing her to smirk. 'That's it. Take the bait. Do something desperate. Make a mistake. You're getting sloppy, Hendricks; help me out, here.'

Hendricks soon addressed her, his voice now echoing in her hollow room. "What will it take to finally get you to talk, SCP-1428-2?"

Still with the formalities? Olivia raised an eyebrow at them, still taunting. 'I don't know, Hendricks; you tell me.'

Fifteen minutes or so passed. Now the only doctors that were left were **Winters** and Hendricks. Olivia was certain that the two of them were conspiring to try something. But she was ready. Any tactic designed to throw her off guard, to get her vulnerable and weak, would not work. Olivia was not going to lose. Olivia would never yield to the likes of them.

"It would be pointless to threaten _you, _SCP-1428-2, so we've decided to implement another strategy…" Dr. Hendricks pulled out a black remote. It had only one button. And it was red.

She didn't like where this was going, but she still wouldn't talk. Hendricks would spill his secrets for her. A man of his arrogance and hubris loved to hear himself talk, especially when he thought he was intimidating.

"SCP-1428-1 on the other hand…" He traced his long fingers over the button, almost sensually. Sick bastard. "What would happen if I were to torture _him _instead? Hmmm? What then?"

Olivia's eyes narrowed. The man couldn't possibly be serious, could he? Was he bluffing? He was going to risk pushing Nick? Pushing her? Just to toy with her? He hadn't even asked her a question. Where were those O5 members? Were they sanctioning this, or were the two doctors acting on their own?

"You think I'm bluffing, don't you, SCP-1428-2? You doubt me. Even a _**thing **_like you thinks they can sense weakness, thinks that they're superior to a man of my intellect and prowess. Well, SCP-1428-2…" He stood up, approached the glass, and pounded on it with both fists. Olivia could see ripples moving their way through the glass' surface from the force. His blue eyes were bloodshot and dilated. His nostrils were inflamed. She could see multiple individual blood vessels bursting from his forehead, his neck, his temples. _**"I – am – not – bluffing!" **_He pressed the button with a sick satisfaction, grinning when he got the immediate feedback – Nick's screams echoing through the speakers.

Olivia unsuccessfully lunged at him, held back by the chains tied around her wrists. They weren't made of ordinary metal. And they weren't going to give anytime soon. Damnit. She didn't want to show him emotion. She didn't want to show Hendricks that he had gotten under her skin… but she couldn't help it. And emotions weren't always a sign of weakness, especially in her case.

"Put – the remote – down," Olivia seethed, although still very collected. Even though her body continued to strain and struggle against the restraints, her voice did not waver. "What do you want, exactly?"

But Hendricks did the unthinkable; he hit the button again. Repeatedly. So much that Nick's cries for pain did not cease. They continued and they echoed around the room and hit her right in the face, full force.

"_**You're going to kill him!" **_Olivia roared at him. "Are you happy with that? Is your Foundation happy with killing a precious resource? What do you want from me? Are you just hoping for a response? Is it anger? Do you want anger? Because I will give you anger the likes of which you have never seen before." Already the lights were starting to flicker. Olivia could feel the energy from it. She could control it. She could bend the lights to her will. "You're a fool, Hendricks; you're nothing more but a fool."

That triggered him to hold down the button. To come right up against the glass and breathe against it, panting laboriously, sweating profusely, swearing continuously. The man had broken. But Olivia couldn't fixate on Dr. Hendricks' madness; she had to save Nick.

Olivia's mind raced to find a solution. 'Turn off all the power. That remote has to be getting energy from somewhere. And even if the remote is powered by something in this room, the power will shut off. Everyone will panic. And they'll send in the guards. They'll have to escort me back to my cell. Or they might take me to Nick.'

So she did. She closed her eyes and opened her mind to her "abilities," as much as she hated to use them. Because every time she had to use them or every time they activated, she felt a bitter burning creep at the back of her throat. She hated her herself right now, and she could taste the burning bile now, but she had to. For Nick. Even for her.

If she concentrated hard enough, she could feel the surging of the electricity in the room – maybe even in this whole side of the facility, but that wasn't necessary. If she concentrated hard enough, she could turn it all down. She breathed in deeply and she felt herself drawing the energy out. And she felt the energy drawing into her, like one energy source merely transferring to another. And the room dimmed – she couldn't see it dim, but she could hear the chaos unfolding outside. Doctors were screaming and the black guards were mobilizing. She could hear their feet contacting with the darkening ground, drawing closer and closer to her location.

And then with one final breath, one final push, the room plunged into darkness. And panic soared with the darkness.

She was getting out of there. And Hendricks… she couldn't see Hendricks through the darkness. But now, more than ever, she wanted to stare him down. She wanted to unravel him. She wanted to selfishly give him a taste of his own medicine.

Olivia flickered the power on long enough to give him the same smug glare he was accustomed to giving her. And when she went under, her last image was actually a treat.

The man was ruffled. The man was furious. But most of all, the man was scared.

A doctor in his position should never be scared – it always leads to mistakes.

* * *

**Personal Log of Dr. Wallace Hendricks:**

I'm done. I'm finished. I'm dead.

I lost it. I lost all control.

I just…

* * *

**O5 Log 01428-1386WH-O2-1:**

Dr. Hendricks has been emotionally compromised for the last time. The SCP Foundation cannot afford any more staff members to violate SCP neutrality. And the SCP Foundation cannot afford to lose any more doctors in the wake of SCP-1428-1 and SCP-1428-2's numerous fatal incidents.

But rather than terminate Dr. Hendricks, we have opted to restore him to his previous mental state. The Dr. Hendricks of the past followed the Foundation and only the Foundation; he did not succumb to petty feelings of revenge or hatred. Dr. Hendricks has been scarred by these subjects and we will simply remove those scars. We will remove the cancerous memories and urges driving him to such extremes.

After careful deliberation, all of O5 Command decided on [DATA EXPUNGED]. The effects of SCP-████'s on the recipient are quite remarkable. The process will be a test for Dr. Kwon's proposed substance, too.

After the emotional repurposing procedure, Dr. Hendricks will return to his previous self-calculating and removed self. But Dr. Hendricks will not return to the Cortexiphan Project. For Dr. Hendricks' safety [and for the safety of the entire Foundation], he will be reassigned to SCP-███. In his stead, Dr. Kwon will be promoted to the head of the project.

If complications should arise, the O5 will enact additional measures, but we are confident that this reassignment will be his last.


	12. Eyes Wide Open

**SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"**

**Chapter 12: Eyes Wide Open**

* * *

**Disclaimers:** During the writing process, all of the SCP number selections I have used were / are vacant. I don't intend to publish this on the wiki, so if the series number is now taken… [DATA REDACTED]. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.

Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. Each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. The SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.

Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: _Bob_. Over Somewhere Else: **Bob.**

**Author's Notes:** I know on the SCP-wiki, stories / references / anything relating to SCP-173 or SCP-682 is really frowned upon. It's considered cheap & an obvious ploy for attention. & a lot of the time plugging them into your story / wiki article just makes everything go to shit. But the two of them are the most well-known & canon. I don't feel comfortable writing about something that MIGHT fit Fringe, but only has like a tentative rating on the wiki. Plus I think the two of them will really work out in the context of the show. Fringe likes to go big or go home in terms of the horror & scares. & SCP-173 & SCP-682 really give you that fear factor. Or least I hope they do. I hope this doesn't come off as gimmicky. That's like the opposite of what I want.

Again I will refer incorrectly to SCP-173 as "the SCP" or stuff of a similar nature sometimes because this is Olivia's POV & she doesn't know the Foundation's labeling protocol.

* * *

**Personal Log of Dr. Isaac Winters:**

They're bringing in Hendricks for questioning. I don't think Hendricks is coming out of there unscathed. I'm not sure if termination is on the table, but demotion… most definitely. But don't worry, old friend; you'll have your revenge.

It seems that your containment will work to our advantage. Most of O5 Command will be questioning you, giving me an opening to act. This will be my last opportunity… since my fate is most likely sealed. After questioning you, they'll come for me. But we'll get our revenge. I promise.

* * *

"Prep the subject for transport."

Olivia heard **Winters'** voice echo from outside the orange-hazed room.

Olivia was on the fringe of consciousness and unconsciousness, but she still heard him. And she still questioned why they would take her out – again. After all she did the other day. After the stunt she pulled and the spark of chaos that spread like wildfire through the Foundation. Coming into her cell, let alone transporting and further questioning, was a big enough risk. What were they planning?

* * *

She was walking with them. The route felt familiar. Even through the dancing double vision of tunnels within tunnels next to additional tunnels, she felt… like she had been there before. Maybe when she was attempting to rescue Nick?

The feelings of guilt and failure washed over her again. If she had just succeeded... Nick wouldn't be off in another remote location drowning in the orange gas. And she wouldn't be walking to some unknown location with her fate in question. They would've been free. They probably would've returned back to their universe by now. But no. She had failed.

'I'm beginning… to sound like Nick.'

* * *

Olivia must have zoned out. Because she didn't remember how long it took to get to the door they were standing in front of now. And she didn't even know which door it was. It was like she blinked and then she was there.

The guards shoved her through the opening from behind. And she came into an expanse. There was a metal gate with a sign attached to it. And there was seemingly endless space extending out. There were guards stationed on a metal second floor that looked down onto the space. They had their heavy guns, aimed right at her. They followed her every movement. What was this?

She turned behind her. **Dr. Winters** wasn't there. No one was there. Even behind the closing doors, no one was there. It was suspicious. She turned right and approached the large metal gate in front of her. This was suspicious, too. It was such a massive structure – much more massive than the thing that contained her or Nick or the two of them together. It concerned her; what was behind this door? Why was she here? What exactly did they want from her?

And soon that door started to open, creaking and sliding and giving way to an area she hadn't been in before.

**Dr. Winters'** voice blasted from the speakers stationed somewhere near the ceiling: _**"Enter the containment chamber, SCP-1428-2."**_

"Is this an experiment or a threat?" Or was it both? Fear surged through Olivia's body, burning away the drugged haze. "What happens if I refuse?"

_**"This is an offer you don't want to refuse, SCP-1428-2. Enter the containment chamber."**_

Reluctantly, Olivia stepped inside. It was much larger than the cell she was given - or at least it looked that way because the entire room was empty, apart from the SCP and the foul-smelling brownish-red stains on the walls and floor. The stains were numerous and they looked corrosive, but Olivia didn't have the time to be Walter Bishop; she wasn't here for scientific analysis.

The room didn't need any furniture because what was being housed inside wasn't exactly human. Olivia didn't even think it was remotely _humanoid_. It was... a yellowish-green mass just huddled up against the wall. And it was coated with that same brownish-red substance on its "head" and on its "arms."

Olivia continued to make her way through the room. It still didn't face her. It remained huddled up against the wall. She could've sworn that the figure was even floating. Or maybe it was still remnants from the drugs.

"What do you want with me?" Olivia shouted. She didn't see any technology immediately in the room, but she knew that **Winters** could hear her. "What do you want?"

The metal door slammed shut in response. Olivia refused to blink; she refused to let her guard down. She kept looking around, looking for answers in a blank room.

"What the HELL do you want with me?" Olivia was roaring now. "Answer me, damnit, **Winters**!"

_**"Enjoy your playtime with SCP-173, **__Olive__**."**_

Hearing a doctor-type authority say that name sent chills down Olivia's spine. It sounded all too Jacksonville. But this figure in front of her, still perched in the corner, was not Jacksonville; it was much worse than Jacksonville. There were no words for the creature in front of her. And she didn't know what to expect. She didn't want to go near it. She didn't want to speak to it. Olivia huddled up in the corner farthest away from it and sat down. Then she finally blinked.

The figure moved. She knew it. It wasn't a large amount, but it had. Because now it was facing her. And it was terrifying. The things that Olivia would tentatively label as eyes... were nothing short of horrifying. Black and green spheres wider than anything she had seen on a specimen. And more of the redness on its "face." And strange black markings that might function as a mouth. Walter would have killed to have a chance alone with this thing... but Olivia was seriously considering that **Winters** had locked her in with this creature to kill HER instead.

"**Winters** - who put you up to this? The Foundation or Hendricks?" Olivia blinked again. The creature was closer to her - or SCP-173 was closer to her. She had even seen it move a little bit, floating down into place. Standing just a foot in front of her. She did not like this.

**"Winters?!"** Still no answer. She could feel her rage building up inside. If only she knew where **Winters** was... she would kill him herself.

"Fine." Olivia stood up and blinked. The SCP was only a few inches away from her face. But she wasn't deterred by it. "I don't have time for you right now. I need to get out of here."

She turned her back to it. That was a bad idea.

SCP-173 came in from behind. It grabbed onto her neck. Olivia grabbed hold of its arms, trying to loosen the thing's grip on her. But it was too much. It was too strong. It had the strength of what felt like twelve men and then some. It was choking her. She was going to die. She was going to die, alone, in this cell with the stains on the floor. She assumed it was blood - the blood of those prisoners they used as pawns, little more than bait to appease these monsters locked away in their cells.

But she was a monster, too, wasn't she? She couldn't end up like those men whose blood and other bodily fluids covered the ground and floor. No. She was a SCP, too. She could be feared just like the thing standing, or maybe floating, menacingly behind her. She'd put on a show for all of them – this SCP and all those little doctors watching every move she made from behind their cameras and their screens. She _knew _they were watching – Hendricks and **Winters**. Olivia knew they craved the satisfaction of seeing her die. They were men swollen with hubris; they wouldn't pass this up. They wanted to relish the moment this SCP-173 snapped her pretty little neck and returned to sulking in its corner. That was their game plan. That was their end game for revenge.

But not today. Olivia was able to pry the thing's iron-clad grip from her neck. She spun around, keeping her eyes on the yellowish menace, coughing and rubbing where it had grabbed her.

She assumed it wasn't capable of speech. And even if it was, Olivia wouldn't have been interested in what it wanted to say. She assumed it would just repeat "I want to kill you" or "You're going to die" or some other generic threat since Olivia was trespassing on its territory. It was probably enraged with its containment, too. Maybe it assumed that Olivia had put it there; she didn't know. But reasoning with it was out of the question. It was a _kill or be killed_ scenario. And she had been in plenty of those. But she usually had her gun. And a partner. And a larger space to work with. This was some enclosed little white room with nothing for her to use as an improvised weapon. And all she had were her mysterious Cortexiphan abilities that still weren't fully under her control. Even in this moment, with all the adrenaline and fear racing through her body, with her pupils dilated and her pulse racing, she could not spit fire or start a fire or do anything with fire against this thing. She couldn't send electrical sparks from her fingertips or wherever they were supposed to come from. She couldn't move the thing with her mind against the wall repeatedly. She couldn't do anything. She only had her fists and her legs.

She reluctantly blinked, but luckily she saw where it was coming from. She tried kicking it in the abdomen. But nothing gave way. It was like the object was made of concrete; it felt rock solid. The thing wasn't sent flying back or back even an inch. It just stayed there, staring menacingly back at her with its blank eyes. And it still hadn't said anything. Or even grunted or growled. It was silent. It was nothing short of a nightmare.

**"Winters?"** If she couldn't reason with this SCP-173, maybe she could try again with the actual humanoid figure. "**Winters**, what do you want? Tell me. Let me help you. Just get me out of here."

_**"No can do, Olivia."**_ She was surprised the man kept referring to her by names instead of numbers. _**"Hendricks and I want to keep you in there. With your new friend."**_

"Stop treating me like a child." Olivia started to pace around the room, glaring at the thing stationed in the center, glaring at the SCP-monster as if it were really Hendricks or **Winters** instead. 'Stop treating me like a goddamn child. You're not William Bell and you aren't Walter Bishop. And even THEY were… better than this.'

**Winters** gave her a dry laugh. _**"It's going to be fun seeing SCP-173 rip you in half."**_

That was it. Olivia saw red. She lunged at SCP-173, hoping to claw its "eyes" out. But it wasn't there in the middle of the room. It was behind her. Olivia was, fortunately, able to dodge it, but it followed her to the other side of the room.

So Olivia just kept running, around and around the room. The opposite of where it was. If it appeared in front of her, she would turn or swerve around it. She was always on the move. Stopping, even for a second, was not an option.

And then it felt like she wasn't running anymore. She was just moving. And the SCP moved with her. She would have it cornered up against the wall and then it would have her cornered. One moment they'd be near the metal door, the next in the middle of the room. And they always faced each other, keeping their eyes on each other. It never had the chance to get around her again. And she never had a chance to get around it.

And the movements were instantaneous. She appeared, it appeared. Olivia, then the SCP-entity. Olivia - SCP. Olivia - SCP. She didn't know what was happening - again a familiar feeling throughout this Foundation freak show - but she didn't stop. She never lost her focus; she couldn't afford to. She had to keep moving. She had to keep ahead of its teleportation.

And it was fast. She could just barely move beyond it. She was just barely ahead of it. And Olivia didn't know how long she could keep this marathon up. And she didn't know how long it had been since she had first stepped in. She feared only five minutes, even though it felt like five hours.

_**"Why don't you just give up, Olive?"**_ If she ever got out of this mess, she would shove one of the guns the guards had down his throat and shoot the trigger repeatedly. Until the clip was done. _**"It's futile. It's faster than you. Just admit that to yourself. It's alright. Nick will be proud of your effort."**_

_"Don't. You. Dare. Mention. Nick."_

That was it. No more taunts. She would outlast this thing. She couldn't die. If she died - Nick was done for. If she died - her universe was done for. If she died - everything was done for. She would outlast this SCP-fuck just like she had outlasted every single dark episode of her life, every single chapter of her life. She outlasted the abuse of a parent, the betrayal of a lover – multiple lovers, the corruption and deception of a person she held dear, and the disappearance of the best thing to happen in her life. She outlasted forced imprisonment in a cell with no food, no water, no light, barely even air. She outlasted the drug trials. She outlasted years of being all alone in the world, with a gaping hole in her heart. She outlasted seemingly everything the universe could hurl at her that was hurled at her. And after everything, after every single hiccup and endless valley alike, she was still here, still fighting. It had been a struggle – with buckling knees and flowing tears and moments of utter hopelessness - but she was still alive. She was still a fighter.

But her aim was still off. The fireball hadn't encompassed the SCP in flame. It burnt the wall opposite them a chilling charcoal color, but SCP-173 still remained unscathed. If it were human, it probably would've laughed at her.

But she would try again. And again. And again. But the yellowish blur moved too fast - she kept losing sight of it whenever she hurled her flames.

So she gave up on the fire-starting. It wasn't working. She changed tactics. She tried to sneak up behind it for a change, try to use its strategy against it. Maybe it had a blind spot or a weak point at its spine or its neck - or what should or could be a spine or a neck, since it still looked like a concrete blob.

That fight went on for a while. It was fruitless.

All Olivia accomplished was exerting energy. She was panting. She was winded. But SCP-173... it gave no such cues of exhaustion or pain. It just moved. Nothing else. No sounds, except for the shifting of what sounded like concrete blocks scraping against each other. And sometimes when the two of them got close to each other, she could hear a high-pitched growl, sounding more like a frequency than something an animal would call out as a battle cry. But that was all. It was stoic. It was the perfect killing _thing_.

**Winters** had chosen wisely, but not wise enough. The two entities were stuck in a stalemate - and **Winters** hadn't foreseen that; none of the doctors had foreseen it. He hadn't addressed the two of them and he hadn't sent any guards to come in to intervene. Probably because the guards would just be outmatched; they would just get in the way. Olivia wouldn't target them unless they shot first, but she had no idea how this SCP-173 would respond. She didn't know if it was ruthless, or just territorial. Again, it couldn't speak. She just didn't know.

'What's taking him so long to make a move?' It was unlike the Foundation to wait so long. And why hadn't she heard Walter's voice or that apathetic female's or any other voice from the O5? Where were they? Where were they if this wasn't their doing? Were **Winters** and Hendricks working on their own - again? They hadn't been disciplined? What kind of a Foundation was this?

All the while, Olivia was dancing out of the way of SCP-173's various lunges, hoping to snap whatever bone she left unguarded. This anomaly was persistent. Of course it didn't help that their arena was so small, but even if they were outside with the entire Foundation as their battleground, Olivia knew that the SCP would not stop targeting her.

She couldn't help but have a bit of respect for the thing. And even see her own drive in this moving... blob.

* * *

Olivia had no idea how long it had been now. But her movements were slowing down, getting sluggish. In the past twenty minutes or so, she had had five close calls. Five times the SCP was within inches of killing her. Something had to change. Her energy levels were low, so she couldn't just throw caution to the wind and try to blast the thing out of existence. She needed an intervention from outside. She needed the guards to come in with their orange gas or the orange-suited personnel with their orange injections. She needed something or someone to get her out of there. She wasn't going to last. She had the will, but her body was fading. She was fading fast.

* * *

"We've just received word of an unauthorized accessing of SCP-173."

"_**Who is responsible?"**_

"It's **Winters**, sir."

"_**Has SCP-1428-2 been accessed, as well?"**_

"Yes, sir. How did you kno-"

"_**Retrieve SCP-1428-2 from SCP-173's containment chamber. Terminate Winters."**_

"But sir-"

"_I agree with O5-2. He should be terminated immediately. He may have gotten wise to the Hendricks' reassignment and this is his course of action."_

"**All the more reason to dispose of him. We can't trust the man. Even Hendricks is cooperative and dependable… when his emotions don't get the better of him. Winters is a standard doctor at best. He's not worth saving."**

"WHAT SHOULD BE THE METHOD OF TERMINATION?"

"**Firing squad. Or better yet, when The Mailmen secure SCP-1428-2, they can simply kill Winters in the process."**

"_Or better still, we just lock the man in with SCP-173."_

"**That would certainly look better. A bullet to the head looks… suspicious. But given Winters' actions as of late, it is entirely plausible that he went into SCP-173's containment chamber for his own fieldwork. He had a lapse in judgment and he lost eye contact. Naturally SCP-173 killed him. We'll turn off the cameras and say that he was working in secret – because he has, for the most part. Simple."**

"But what do we do with the footage **Winters** is receiving from SCP-1428-2 and SCP-173, sirs?"

"_**That's assuming there IS any footage. SCP-1428-2 is most likely deceased after being exposed to SCP-173 for so long. Even with its telekinesis, it is no match for SCP-173's speed and ferocity."**_

"_What a shame."_

"THESE TWO MEN HAVE BEEN RESPONSIBLE FOR SO MUCH WASTE. TOO MUCH."

"_We acted much too late on these matters."_

"_**Extra precautions must be taken, as well. Only a select few should have access to the remaining SCP-1428 project. We must mitigate any further internal mishaps. Starting with the Class-D personnel…"**_

* * *

She had never been so happy to see a bunch of masked guards with guns aimed directly at her in her life. And she had no idea how they got her out of there without leaving themselves vulnerable to SCP-173, but they had. To the best of her knowledge, none of them had blinked during the entire operation. And that was impressive.

She was free – of the immediate danger. Olivia was free of SCP-173 and whoever had forced her into that mess. But now she was going back. To the hell she knew and was so accustomed to.

The team didn't even have to give her sedatives. She was exhausted. As soon as they had closed the first red-buttoned door away from that monstrosity, her knees buckled. She didn't touch the floor; two of the anonymous guards caught her much before that. A third directly in front of her turned around and asked, "Can you stand?"

Olivia could barely shake her head at him.

That man heaved her onto his back and they all continued moving.

These men… she couldn't help but feel a bit of nostalgia. Back when she was in charge of a team. Back when she was infiltrating sites and initiating objectives for the greater good of society. It was almost comforting to be with them.

And it was hard not to see a bit of herself in them: they were soldiers for the SCP Foundation and a lot of the time, she was a soldier for the Fringe Division. Especially with Jones around, she felt more like a soldier than an agent. Or at least _they _wanted her to be more of a soldier than an agent. Follow out your directive, Agent Dunham; kill Jones before he can kill others. Don't reason with him, Agent Dunham; it's not your directive. Don't let your emotions cloud your judgment, Agent Dunham; just shoot to kill.

But she couldn't just be their soldier. She couldn't even be their agent. She was an anomaly for the Fringe Division, too. She WAS the kinds of things they had to solve and stop, and she was grateful less people knew about it.

And then it all hit her. Maybe she belonged here with the rest of these anomalies and threats. She wasn't normal – she wasn't like those guards or the prisoners. And was especially not like the people this Foundation was protecting – the _normal_ people. She wasn't normal. She was flawed. She was a freak. She was a science experiment with stunted emotions. She was the very thing the Fringe Division needed to subdue and solve, much like the secure-contain-protect procedures initiated here. Perhaps their organizations weren't so different after all.

Maybe she should stop fighting. Maybe this was all… necessary.

* * *

**Log 1428-2-12:**

_Dr. J. Kwon:_

The O5 have authorized dual containment again, which I believe is best after the stress SCP-1428-2 has endured. But by enduring that stress – and surviving that stress – we have received keen insight that we had only dreamed of.

If I had known that SCP-1428-2 responded to situations – real situations and not machines and injections – I would have tried this method a long time ago. From the start, even. I would have started experiments as soon as the subject came through the door.

But what we've gathered from its meeting with SCP-173 is extraordinary: SCP-1428-2 can move faster than SCP-173 – for short bursts. SCP-1428-2's speed is not sustainable, but it is speed nonetheless.

SCP-1428-1 was exactly right: SCP-1428-2 is the strongest. Now we just need to see its true strengths and limitations.

* * *

**Personal Log of Dr. Jung Kwon:**

If I can unlock SCP-1428-2, I can unlock my potential at the SCP Foundation. If I can unlock its secrets, I am guaranteed success.

No one will stand in my way.

* * *

SCP-1428-2's skill is out of this world. It's unfathomable. It's incredible. And that's why we need to tap into it – to stop SCP-682. There haven't been any solid leads to destroy it for months now. But SCP-1428-2… it's an entirely new being for SCP-682. We might have a chance here.

All I'm asking is one meeting between the two of them – because that's all we're going to get before SCP-682 adapts. And I'm confident in SCP-1428-2's abilities. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Am I alone in this? **– Dr.** ██████

_Luke, you advocate for EVERY new SCP to be exposed to SCP-682_. _This isn't some monumental discovery; this is you being you. _ **– Dr. Greggory**

But this time it's different. This time I KNOW that it's going to work. Just look at SCP-1428-2's body of work. Look what it's done in such a short amount of time. That doesn't mean ANYTHING to you?

Okay fine. If you don't think that SCP-1428-2 can do it herself, why don't we have SCP-1428-1 enter in as well? We could have the both of them be in SCP-682's containment chamber. It'll be a duo fighting the undefeated. ** – Dr. ██████**

_I want whatever he's been smoking. Because this sounds more like a movie idea or a tv pilot than an actual experiment._

_SCP-1428-2 has been reluctant and hostile the entirety of its time held here. How do we know that it'll agree to even kill SCP-682? How does that benefit it? In most cases, it will stubbornly refuse – say that it is all OUR situation and not its. And in the worst case scenario, what if it sees something in SCP-682 that it values? What if it finds something to gain? What if the two of them breach together? What if all THREE of them breach together, since you've been quick to factor in SCP-1428-1? Oh but you didn't REALLY factor in SCP-1428-1, did you? Because in the absolute WORST scenario, what if SCP-1428-1 has an empathic event with SCP-682? What if the two of them are able to connect? Can you IMAGINE the bloodshed that awaits us? Can you imagine the __madness__? Can you even COMPREHEND THE XK EVENT THAT YOU WILL HAVE SPRUNG ON THE WORLD? __**Have you given this much or ANY thought at all?**_

_Fine. I'll entertain it. Let's assume that we just drug SCP-1428-2 and plop it into the room with SCP-682, because that's probably your plan of how to proceed. How do we know that SCP-1428-2 will be in control of its abilities, regardless of whether SCP-1428-1 is in there with it or not? Sure we can assume that the stress from the situation will trigger some sort of a response, but we don't know for sure. And we can't even guarantee what kind of response will be triggered. Because it seems like it's a game of chance when it comes to SCP-1428-2's abilities. One day you'll get fire spewing out of nowhere and then another day you might get supersonic hearing and then the other you'll get __**nothing**__. And only recently have we seen the tiniest fraction of SCP-1428-2's abilities. And I'm not even confident that they're enough to overwhelm SCP-682. Regardless of how many abilities SCP-1428-2 may have… I don't think it's enough._

_SCP-173 is one thing, but SCP-682 is another. SCP-173 is fast. That's all. SCP-682 is everything else and more. SCP-682 has survived this long for a REASON. The fact that we NEED to destroy this subject, instead of adhering to standard secure-contain-protect procedure, exists FOR A REASON. This is not a game, Luke._

_But fine. I'll continue to entertain your little fantasy. Let's assume that we want the two to fight – like you so desire. In order to do so, we're going to have to remove SCP-682 from its primary containment procedures. I am not comfortable with that kind of a situation. SCP-1428-2 AND any task force teams we're able to secure for the operation may not be enough to secure SCP-682 again. And that's only if SCP-1428-2 is able to judge that it doesn't stand a chance alone and joins with the task force. In the most likely scenario, SCP-1428-2 perishes and the task force is left on its own. Of course I do not doubt the abilities of the task forces, but SCP-682 has just gotten that much stronger. And with its strength, it'll slaughter them all and run across the world killing everything in its path. _

_So I'll have whatever you've been smoking, Luke. This sounds like a great idea for a movie and if you're having this movie in your mind all the time… that sounds like a fantastic experience._

_But in all seriousness, have you been exposed to SCP-███ by any chance? Because that's the kind of madness this all sounds like. _**– Dr.** ████

* * *

**O5 Log 01428-00173-X9B4-O2-1:**

There's been talk amongst the doctors about exposing SCP-1428-2 to SCP-682. Quite frankly, I do not know who gave Dr. Luke ██████ access to the Cortexiphan project, but his seeds of supposed madness have spread. And it's becoming quite a popular idea, especially with those with lower clearance levels.

The O5 will have to give it thought, but most of us will side with Dr. ████.

And I see no need to throw SCP-1428-2's life away. Especially after all of this. SCP-1428-2 is more important than that. It is MORE than a key to SCP-682's destruction.

I am starting to believe that SCP-1428-2 is the key to everything. But only time will tell. I don't have much to base my beliefs on.

But I've been re-reading the SCP-001 literature. And I've been re-reading the old archives of SCP-1428-2's first interviews. It downright states that it can see outcomes and possibilities – possible futures. These doctors are caught up on the subject's speed and power, but what it truly has is INSIGHT. That has more value than an instance of supersonic speed or pyrokinesis.

Or maybe I'm just as mad as Dr. ██████.


	13. Nostalgia Before the Storm

**SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"**

**Chapter 13: Nostalgia Before the Storm**

* * *

**Disclaimers:** During the writing process, all of the SCP number selections I have used were / are vacant. I don't intend to publish this on the wiki, so if the series number is now taken… aw welp. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.

Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. Each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. The SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.

Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: _Bob_. Over Somewhere Else: **Bob.**

**Author's Notes:** Writing this chapter was especially hard. It was just stuck beyond belief. Then I read a review & I got that needed spark. The chapter turned out being a little longer than I had first planned it… but it's out. It's written & it's done.

College is starting to kick my ass, leaving me just exhausted & all that… so production will wind down until I get to spring break. But we're hopefully reaching the half-way point in the story? Maybe?

* * *

_Cortexichildren_

**Item #:** SCP-1428

**Object Class:** Euclid

**Special Containment Procedures:** The two humanoid hosts, SCP-1428-1 and SCP-1428-2, are to be contained in a seven-by-seven meter room and must be sedated at all times. A constant flooding of Class A sedatives in gaseous form will be used to keep the subjects in a docile, non-violent state. Direct and sustained contact from unauthorized personnel with either subject is prohibited. Violators will be immediately terminated to prevent further deaths via the subjects. Food and water must be provided three times a day through the airlock tubes installed in their cells. Separation of the two humanoid hosts is prohibited unless authorized unanimously by O5 Command. Cross-subject research must be authorized by at least 7 members of O5 Command.

**Transportation Procedures:** Under no circumstances is SCP-1428-1 to be transported individually. And under no circumstances is SCP-1428-1 to be removed from its containment cell unless SCP-1428-2 is in close proximity.

While SCP-1428-2 is being transported from its cell to a research facility, the highest sedatives must be used at all times. Upon entering the cell, Class A sedatives must be administered immediately and must continue to be administered until the subject is docile and cooperative enough to move without incident. Those transporting and those having any other form of contact with the subject must have Class A sedatives on them at all times. Once the subject has been successfully transferred to a secure research room, sedatives given will be lowered to Class B. Once questioning and research have finished, repeat transportation procedures.

**Description:** SCP-1428 is an unknown man-made chemical substance called Cortexiphan. Dr. Kwon's research into the ingredients of SCP-1428 has yielded [DATA EXPUNGED].

SCP-1428 was given to SCP-1428-1 and SCP-1428-2 as children [exact ages unknown] during the drug trials [DATA REDACTED]. The administering and activation of SCP-1428 spawned the abilities SCP-1428-1 and SCP-1428-2 now possess. However the way of administration, amount needed to trigger the onset of such abilities, and the specifics of the activation process are unknown. According to SCP-1428-2, the activation process varies from host to host.

SCP-1428, according to SCP-1428-2, acts on the host's perception, allowing for the control of the reality around it. It widens the possibilities and awareness of each host's mind uniquely, which may explain the stark differences between SCP-1428-1 and SCP-1428-2. Although despite their differences [or perhaps because of them], during the drug trials, SCP-1428-1 and SCP-1428-2 were paired together, forming a strong psychic and emotional bond. The strength and specifics of this bond are unknown, but SCP-1428-2 can sense SCP-1428-1's presence and emotional state, especially in times of heightened stress. SCP-1428-1, before dual containment had been granted, expressed a frantic desire to be reunited with SCP-1428-2, since being in the presence of SCP-1428-2 gives it security. Likewise SCP-1428-2 harbors aggressive protective feelings toward SCP-1428-1, desiring to always shelter SCP-1428-1 from harm. When SCP-1428-2 learned that SCP-1428-1 was going to be moved to an armed containment facility, it breached, successfully negotiated its way to SCP-1428-1, and attempted to escape with SCP-1428-1. When both hosts are separate from each other, the two frequently demand to know where the other is and express great concern in the other's welfare. Since dual containment has been reinstated, the two hosts seem calmer and less prone to violence.

SCP-1428-1 is a white male of average height with blond hair and blue eyes. It refers to itself as "Nick." SCP-1428-1 is a reverse-empath, with the capability of transferring its emotions to those around it. SCP-1428-1 is emotionally unstable and highly suicidal. It is prone to self-hatred and self-harm, which are highly dangerous when they are transferred to innocents around it. The violent manifestations of SCP-1428-1 are varied, ranging from [DATA REDACTED] to even the most brutal displays of [DATA REDACTED]. The range of these abilities and whether only negative emotions can transfer to humans around it is unknown. So far SCP-1428-1 has been responsible for ██ Foundation deaths.

SCP-1428-2 is a white female of average height with blonde hair and hazel eyes. It refers to itself as "Olivia." SCP-1428-2 is the stronger of the two humanoid hosts. Prior to its containment breach, SCP-1428-2's known abilities were: abnormal acute hearing; the power to manipulate certain metals; and the ability to see different outcomes and potential futures. SCP-1428-2 has now displayed pyrokinesis, telekinesis, electricity manipulation, and enhanced speed. SCP-1428-2 expresses that it lacks adequate control of its abilities, but its incident with SCP-173 makes the Foundation believe otherwise. So far SCP-1428-2 has been responsible for ██ Foundation deaths. Yet in spite of this statistic, SCP-1428-2 repeatedly expresses concern for the welfare of innocent people. During the event that led to its containment, SCP-1428-2 was seen trying to calm SCP-1428-1 down from its suicidal state. However, SCP-1428-2 failed, resulting in the deaths of those in the midst of an empathic event. During questioning sessions, SCP-1428-2 is always conscious of threats to innocent life. Whether this awareness is sincere or a façade with the aims of gaining the Foundation's trust is unknown.

**Note-02:** All unauthorized contact is prohibited. SCP-1428-1's empathic abilities are too great and our understanding of SCP-1428-2's abilities has only just begun.

**[[THE INFORMATION BELOW IS FOR PERSONNEL WITH LEVEL 4 CLEARANCE AND ABOVE ONLY]]**

…

**Addendum-07: **The Foundation cannot afford to have another breach of the two hosts again. That is the top priority, followed by controlling empathic and telekinetic events. There have been too many fatalities. SCP-1428-1's effects on people have been… disturbing. And SCP-1428-2's growing hostility and increasing instances of violence is a topic of great concern.

* * *

The last thing she remembered was the armed team saving her from SCP-173. Saving wasn't the correct word, but she had been saved nonetheless; one more minute with that monster and she would've been dead.

Olivia groaned and shifted on the stiff mattress. She was sore and exhausted. It felt as if she had been hurled through the windshield of a car… again.

"Olive?! You're awake!" Nick's voice came from beneath her.

She strained to open her eyes. She saw a mass on the floor, huddling next to the bed. "N-Nick? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me. You've been out for a while now. They brought you in and I was… I was worried." Even Nick, Nick with his endless amounts of hope and faith in Olivia, doubted that she would make it. When they had brought her in and threw her carelessly on the floor, she was a shell of herself. She was pale and frail. She looked too much like him. She looked too weak and worthless to be Olivia. It hurt him just to see her in such a wretched state. It pained him so much to see Olivia forcibly lowered to his level. "But you're okay now." And that was all that mattered. Olivia was Olivia again. And he could be Nick again.

Olivia winced as she struggled to sit up. "Has anyone come in here?"

"No. Well the gas comes in every now and then, but no people." Nick turned to the food tube immediately behind him. "We still get our meals… but that's the only thing we get. I haven't seen them since they brought you in. It's… suspicious."

It was. Maybe they were doing something about **Winters** and Hendricks. Maybe the two of them had acted out of turn and were receiving some much needed discipline. Or maybe they were constructing a new torture device to try out on them. Or maybe they finally got their hands on an isolation tank and were prepping it to do their bidding. Whatever it is, Olivia didn't like the wait. She hated the calm before the storm. It made her uneasy, especially when the lives of people she cared about hung in the balance.

Of course Nick wasn't Peter or Ella or Rachel to her, but she would be lying if she said that they hadn't bonded during this experience. Sure they hadn't had a true heart-to-heart chat, but she had trusted Nick with her life countless times, and vice versa – and quite honestly she valued that more. They were linked, linked in a way she knew that she would never fully understand. And perhaps the fact that she would never fully understand made it all the more important. He was important to her, not as a lover or a friend, but something less and something more at the same time. He was Nick, the soul forever bonded to her by cruel circumstance. He was special. _They_ were special.

And that's why there were here – because the two of them were special. But the two of them would escape. Eventually. It would happen. It had to happen. Seeing Nick again only invigorated Olivia's will to resist. That SCP experience may have taken its toll on her, but she had moved on. Fixating on it wouldn't help her. Hopefully she would never see that thing again. And even if she did, it was only an obstacle blocking her way to escape. It would fall just like the rest of the Foundation.

"Have you been sleeping alright, Nick?" She addressed him with a gentle tone to her voice. She figured that Nick needed some comfort, after being alone for so long. In that moment, she felt like a mother. And it felt…

"Better – now that you're here." He smiled. And he heaved up and sat down on the bed next to her. "I don't remember a thing."

"That's good." She looked down at her cracked and bruised hands. There were bits of dried blood caked into the wrinkles of her knuckles. "I… I'm sorry I haven't been able to really protect you, Nick." She felt like a defeated mother, a failed mother that couldn't provide enough for her child in any sense of the word.

"No, Olive! Don't you dare apologize. You've tried-"

"But that's just it, Nick; I've only **tried**… and that's not enough. They've _hurt_ you. And they've hurt me. I could've gotten us out of here earlier, but I just wasn't strong enough. Hell, we wouldn't have even been captured by this goddamn Foundation if I had just gotten us back home. But I failed at that, too." She put her head in those battered hands and heaved a sigh. "I'm so sorry, Nick."

Nick's heart was breaking, seeing Olivia so much like himself. So defeated, so down. No. Olivia didn't deserve to be like this. He took her into his arms and wrapped himself around her, voice wavering, "Olive, you've done so much for me already. We're together again and that's all that matters. And I haven't done my best to protect you, either. I depend on you too much – because it's easy. Because I'm weak. But I have to challenge myself, too. I have to help you, too." He was crying now, sobbing into her frayed yellow hair. It looked like straw, not like the golden locks he was used to seeing. It only made him cry harder. It only made him all the more guilty. He was just as responsible for the tattered Olivia in front of him as the Foundation was. "I promised you… back in your apartment… that I would protect you. And I failed you, too. I've failed you countless times. You wanted me to be strong and I wasn't. They took me away because I wasn't strong enough. I'm vulnerable and they've exploited me. I'm vulnerable and they used me against you. And I don't want that to happen anymore, Olive. I don't want them to hurt you anymore. I don't want any of us to hurt." He kept heaving and sobbing into her hair, into her bony shoulder. "Especially you. I don't want to see you hurt ever again because of me."

"Nick…" She couldn't say anything. She was touched by his emotions. She was touched by his sincerity. "We're going to get out of here… I know we will."

He wanted so desperately to reveal the secrets of his heart – the full extent of his love – but he was still much too scared. And it made him feel even worse. Here he was, hoping to be her strong protector and soldier, but he couldn't even say three simple words. He was so pathetic. He was so weak.

The orange gas enveloped them. Nick actually celebrated its arrival. Maybe it would deliver him from his failures.

* * *

[[ LEVEL 5 CLEARANCE EYES ONLY ]]

**Transcribed Overseer Assembly 01428-2-XB13-Omega**

**O5-5 :** The status of SCP-1428-2-

**O5-4 :** Has already been established. I see no reason to change its status from Euclid to Keter. And there IS no reason to change its status.

**O5-6 :** Your voice is one of many. We have all come to debate the status of SCP-1428-2. Let us begin. You can start with your assessment of the matter, O5-4, if you so wish.

**O5-4 :** SCP-1428-2 satisfies the qualities a subject must be to be labeled 'Euclid;' it does not exceed them. SCP-1428-2 is sentient and we do not know its true motivations. Our understanding of SCP-1428 and its relationship with SCP-1428-2 is very limited. **That **is the true danger. SCP-1428-1 was the one that caused the deaths outside of the Foundation, not SCP-1428-2.

**O5-8 :** But as you said yourself, our awareness is very limited. SCP-1428-2 could have caused events that we are unaware of. The two subjects had gone unnoticed until very recently. We have just become aware of their existence in the past month and a half.

**O5-4 :** But there hasn't been the data. Our Foundation has received little on any such empathic events, or any event causing massive self-destructive behavior in a public setting. They could have only recently been activated. And even in an activated state, they do not pose a grave threat to humanity unless they are directly threatened.

**O5-5 :** And haven't we directly threatened them? Especially SCP-1428-2? We have exposed the subject to SCP-173, high voltage shocks, and Class A sedative gas, among many things. SCP-1428-2 is growing more and more hostile to the Foundation day by day. Who's to say that it won't later extend to the entire planet? We could be provoking it to Keter hostility.

**O5-10 :** So what's your solution, then? Set them all free? Destroy them all? Neither of those are viable options. If you're so eager to reclassify SCP-1428-2's class, then what do you suggest its vigorous containment procedures be modified to?

**O5-5 :** The containment procedures are already drastic. The Foundation cannot afford for the host to reach full consciousness at any time. It needs to be bombarded with Class A sedatives at all times. It needs to stay in a secluded room with little human contact. The two hosts need to be kept together for their safety and our safety. Those with suicidal tendencies, as we have learned with Dr. Hendricks, should be kept away from SCP-1428-1. And those that can be easily swayed must be kept away from SCP-1428-2, as we learned from the unidentified doctor helping the subject breach. Actually _anyone_ should be kept away from SCP-1428-2. It has the power of persuasion, whether by pure charisma or using its telepathic powers.

**O5-10 :** But I don't find those rigorous enough. It's nowhere near Procedure 110-Montauk-type extremes. Just flood the two with gas, keep them away from others, and hope for the best; that's trivial even by average Euclid standards. They're not encased in some special type of metal to keep them from reacting with anything. They're not suspended in a plastic case raised however many feet above the ground. And they're still kept relatively conscious.

**O5-7 :** Although we have contemplated placing SCP-1428-1 in a coma.

**O5-10 :** But it didn't… no I actually see what you mean. But even placing the subject in a catatonic state requires little relative effort. And subsequently Class-D personnel wouldn't have to be changed out. And little guards would have to be stationed outside their containment cells. It's not Keter-type extensive protocol.

**O5-5 :** Fine. But we cannot deny that SCP-1428-2 is capable of significant destruction, with its arsenal of traits – especially in a breach. It breached before and it showcased abilities to such degrees that we had never seen in any specimen or entity before. What if it were to breach again? What then? What kinds of destruction could ensue?

**O5-4 :** I find fault with this. From what we've come to understand, SCP-1428-2 does not mindlessly kill for killing's sake. When it breached, instead of mindlessly slaughtering the Task Force squads, it settled to injure, if not maim. It was not concerned with killing first. It was more interested in its objectives: securing SCP-1428-1 and escaping the facility.

**O5-10 :** The way you described the subject almost makes it sound like it's one of us.

**O5-2 :** I believe that there is more complexity to SCP-1428-2 than meets the eye.

**O5-7 :** Expand upon this.

**O5-2 :** I am having a special force run background checks on SCP-1428-2 as it lived in the outside world. Results have not come in, but I wouldn't be surprised if SCP-1428-2 had previously worked in a government agency, or perhaps in a rival organization.

**O5-6 :** What makes you so certain?

**O5-2 :** SCP-1428-2's ability to handle situations and to reason in the midst of danger is astounding. It's something that an ordinary human being just doesn't possess; they don't experience the heightened situations enough to develop those needed skills and mindsets necessary to function.

SCP-1428-2 is always aware. It is always aware that we are aware. It is calculating and logical. To label it only as "sentient" is an insult to its persistence to resistance. I believe that there is so much more to unlock from the subject.

**O5-6 :** But what is your stance on the reclassification?

**O5-2 :** I maintain my stance. Although SCP-1428-2 possesses almost dangerous potential, and all the more dangerous because it is unknown, it is not Keter. It is neither hostile nor destructive enough to warrant such a designation. Before it was contained, it showed the opposite of hostility to civilization and human life. It _cared _for the innocents around it. SCP-1428-1 showcases reverse-empathy but I argue that SCP-1428-2 experiences heightened empathy, a vital component to their bond. SCP-1428-2 did not want SCP-1428-1 to affect the people around them. And it consistently showcases that mindset even in containment. When Dr. Kwon and Dr. Hendricks tried to gain access to its knowledge of SCP-1428, the subject refused. It did not want others to become like it – to become a Cortexichild. And it did not want the knowledge gained from it, SCP-1428-1, and SCP-1428 to adversely affect human life.

And all that aside, objects are labeled as Euclid because of the uncertainty surrounding them. That is why they are the most experimented upon. That is why we work to solve them, in order to reclassify them as Safe. We are in the arduous process of identifying SCP-1428-2 and we must persist. We cannot label it as Keter and hope to merely contain it. We must work to fully_ understand_ it.

**O5-5 :** But can't you see the threat that SCP-1428-2 poses to this Foundation? And especially in light of the SCP-682 talk, which we haven't even started yet.

**O5-7 :** That will be next on the agenda. But let's put the reclassification or maintaining of Euclid classification to a vote.

…

**O5-3 :** That is 8 in favor of maintaining SCP-1428-2's Euclid classification and 4 against, with the noted absence of O5-13 in light of [DATA EXPUNGED].

**O5-5 :** Or 4 in favor of reclassifying SCP-1428-2 and 8 against.

**O5-10 :** Just accept defeat and move on.

**O5-7 :** With that we shall adjourn for lunch.

* * *

"Nick?"

"Hm?"

Her lips were chapped. Her throat was dry. Her body was weak. But she needed to know. Even if it hurt, even if it triggered her to extremes, she needed to know.

"What do you remember?"

It was a vague question, but he knew. It was vague enough for those watching the feed of their cell to scratch their heads and turn to each other and question the vagueness of it all, but he knew.

It was nearly painfully obvious. Only one thing, one place, popped into his mind – Jacksonville. Everything revolved around Jacksonville. That one town, that one daycare, had changed Nick for the rest of his life. It had scarred him and cursed him and marked him as a target and a soldier all at once. Because he remembered. He could never forget the sights that had haunted him. And he could never forget the reason he was able to survive, through every single struggle in his life, not just in Jacksonville – Olive. His Olive. He was fortunate to have been paired with that first day, all those years ago. They were so much younger then. And yet things were so much the same.

"Everything," he answered back. It was a vague answer to a vague question, but she knew. She had told them that answer however many days or weeks back in those torturous "questioning" sessions. Nick was haunted by the past, by everything and anything that had happened to him. He couldn't let go, but she had been so eager to. As a result, he had his demons plaguing him on a daily basis. And even by letting go, by forgetting, Olivia still had demons of her own. Even she couldn't fully escape the clutches of Jacksonville, of William Bell and the Walter Bishop she hoped Walter would never revert back to.

This failure to escape Jacksonville made her feel inadequate. And it made her place the blame on herself for going through such an ordeal in the first place. But then she stopped such thoughts. 'I've been going through this alone. I've been trying to forget my struggles instead of facing them – with someone else who's also gone through them. Fighting alone can be a losing battle, but fighting with a comrade… that's different.' It was hard for Olivia to accept help, even from someone going through such a similar haunted experience, but she had to. She had to realize that the two of them didn't need to fight their battles alone. They deserved better. As much as she hated herself sometimes, and especially as much as Nick did, they deserved better. They didn't deserve to suffer alone in silence; they had each other for a reason. And right now they needed each other. And now was the perfect time to face their past and hopefully heal. Because Nick couldn't go on with the demons eating him inside out. And she couldn't go on as a hardened shell of a soul. She shouldn't have to distance herself to feel safe and regardless, she wouldn't be able to do it for long. Something would give. Something would break her down.

"Tell me everything you can, Nick. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you. Always."

* * *

It had taken a while for Nick to start. But he did, in time. In his own time.

He had shuddered. She figured that he had to summon up the strength. And he eventually did, after looking up to the whiteness that functioned as a "ceiling." It was actually hard to distinguish where the ceiling began and where the sidewalls ended. And he had seemed to be caught up in that limbo, still trying to muster the ability to speak. Or to convey his thoughts, in this case. But the limbo didn't last forever.

Because it happened. He took a shaky breath and looked at her with those bright blue eyes. They were wide and shining and full of everything a being could be full of. They only took on this appearance when he looked at her. She knew that by now. He knew that by now. He had to know by now. How much he loved her. Even if he didn't admit it, she knew.

'I just had a feeling… the first time I saw you. You were seated down at one of the tables, on the complete opposite side of the room, but I just knew. And eventually so did the rest of them. We fit together. I don't exactly know why, but we did – and we still do. And I owe a lot to you. I don't know what I would have done all these years without you, Olive. I could never forget you. I **would **never forget you.'

She was that important to him. She couldn't help but feel a bit shaken. Nick sounded a lot like Peter, whenever he wanted to confess parts of his soul to her. Or John Scott. Her mind had reluctantly jumped to him. And she forcefully jumped away from him. No more. No more of that or him.

'It started off small. Like a 'normal' daycare. They gave us things to color and toys to play with. They made us trust them. They numbed our minds. And they gave us the injections.' Nick shuddered, as if he had been injected right there before her. 'They were small, but I knew there was something behind them. They weren't average injections. They were full of a bright liquid, a bright substance, that I had never seen before. But I kept my mouth shut. Because I was scared. I couldn't be like you and try to swat the injections away. You hated them.'

Olivia wasn't really surprised. 'How many did we get?'

'I lost count. But after a while, they stopped. It was a waiting period – like they were waiting for it to take to our systems. Because then the tests started. And they were the hardest things. They were obscure. They were challenging what we had been taught in the "false world." It was the first step for forming recruits. They needed to free our minds of the restraints institutions had placed upon us… something like that.' He laughed. 'And you were the only one that could make consistent progress. Week after week, you would pass them all, while the rest of us struggled. You tried to help me, give me answers to things that couldn't truly be answered, but it didn't help. But thanks anyway.' He gave her a smile. 'You always succeeded.' But it was tinged with sadness. With jealousy. With anger despite all the love he held for her. 'You were the golden child. Dr. Bishop especially took to you. He'd treat you the best out of all of us. He'd pull you aside and run special tests on you. And sometimes on me.'

'What kind of tests, Nick?'

'I…' He faltered.

'Nick?'

'It wasn't like… the SCP Foundation. But… it still wasn't good. Seclusion rooms… threats… we were just children. And… I wasn't ready for…' He winced. He shook his head. He recoiled and scrunched his blue eyes tight. 'I… I… don't think I can do this, Olive. Maybe later. I'm tired. I want to sleep. I'm going to sleep.'

'Yeah. Okay.' Olivia was a bit shaken herself. What had happened? They were making such quality progress and then all of a sudden… nothing. Nick had been so confident, so in control, and then something hit him. He remembered something harsh. And the clarity was over. Now he was huddled up against his bed in the corner, curling up into a ball. All in the matter of mere moments… he was reduced to a childlike state.

What was truly haunting Nick? What had caused the demons to spawn in that tortured mind of his? What had happened to them all? What was he hiding? What was he hiding **from**? Olivia was a bit reluctant to continue. But she couldn't just stop now. There was no turning back from it all now. She had resolved to continue on this path with Nick together – no matter the costs to heal. But Nick… his hesitance told her that it was something serious. What had happened?

Did she even want to continue?

* * *

**O5-6 :** Shall we continue?

**O5-10 :** Yes.

**O5-3 :** The conversations linking SCP-1428-2 and SCP-682 are unsettling for some.

**O5-11 :** Especially the fact that those with relatively lower clearance are talking about a supposed 'death match' between the two of them. How are they gaining access? How does the JANITORIAL STAFF know that some have entertained the notion of using SCP-1428-2 to destroy SCP-682?

**O5-5 :** I think the most disturbing is the sensationalizing of the imagined event. This Foundation is not based on petty 'death matches.' That kind of **Winters**-related behavior needs to be purged immediately. We are not a Foundation based on gratifying revenge or childish desires to see a "Godzilla on steroids" versus "that hot X-Man girl" battle. Even throwing the term "battle" around irresponsibly is infuriating.

**O5-4 :** And why should there even be a meeting between the two of them? Our previous debate shed light on how _little_ we know about SCP-1428-2, which is why it is so dangerous. But now people – respected doctors in our midst even – want to disregard those valid points just to see a proposed fight? We cannot even begin to predict what kind of consequences could arise from such a situation. Dr. ████ shed light on what we could possibly expect and I agree with every statement made.

**O5-10 :** And yet I can see where they – the Class-D and lower-level staff – are coming from. All of us are on edge when it comes to SCP-682; we have been for years now. And for years, we haven't come any closer to destroying it since it first appeared in our facility. SCP-682 sits in its tank of acid and every once and a while, it breaches. And we send out various teams to try to recontain it. And then it kills our valuable agents and any innocent lives caught in the crossfire. It's a vicious cycle that seems like it'll never stop; it's endless. It seems like a fruitless, pointless battle.

But now, even the Class-D personnel have hope. Because this new SCP-1428-2 seems like it has a small ounce of a chance of facing SCP-682 – which is better than no chance and better than any of the methods we have tried on SCP-682. They're latching onto it and it's becoming more than hope; it's becoming their reality. They are so desperate to see SCP-682 destroyed that they believe _**ardently**_ that SCP-1428-2 will prevail.

**O5-5 :** Which is dangerous. They're latching onto SCP-1428-2's charisma and persuasion. They're all falling subject to what could be an empathic-based event. SCP-1428-2 might be able to feed off of that strength and faith they have for it. These emotions might fuel it to breach. These emotions might fuel it to warrant a Keter rating.

**O5-6 :** Stay on the topic at hand, please.

**O5-5 :** Fine. The point is that SCP-1428-2 is a scientific anomaly, not a beacon or angel of salvation.

**O5-2 :** But we don't know that, do we, O5-5?

**O5-5 :** I'm not quite sure I follow you, sir.

**O5-2 :** We don't know exactly what SCP-1428-2 is. We haven't unlocked its potential. And perhaps that potential is similar to salvation, and perhaps it isn't.

**O5-10 :** We won't know until we try?

**O5-2 :** Yes, and yet I am hesitant – as are naturally many of you. We don't KNOW exactly what SCP-1428-2 is and how it will react. The Class-D personnel are overestimating its chances to even survive exposure to SCP-682, in any form. And that comes with being a part of Class-D personnel as opposed to the Overseer class.

And I won't lie to you all – my hesitance is bathed in selfishness. I don't want to lose a very valuable specimen, especially just on the whim of some doctor that shouldn't have even been given clearance. SCP-1428-2 could unlock the doors for many questions, not just for SCP-682. We have the opportunity to explore a substance that alters the reality formation of the recipient. We have the opportunity to see how many different manifestations of SCP-1428 there could be in a multitude of hosts.

**O5-11 :** We have the opportunity to perhaps use these hosts in the stagnant Olympia Project. And perhaps create more projects with the discovery or creation of new hosts.

**O5-2 :** Yes. And the opportunity to observe host-based bonds and bond dynamics. And yet… this may be the only chance we get of destroying SCP-682.

**O5-6 :** After this chance, there may not be another. SCP-682 might adapt to anything SCP-1428-2 unleashes against it. And SCP-1428-2 might, as you mentioned, perish. It's a gamble.

**O5-7 :** Are we willing to take that gamble?

**O5-5 :** I am not.

**O5-4 :** And for once, I actually agree with you. But that's only two of us.

**O5-10 :** Is it too early to call for a vote?

**O5-8 :** Yes. I speak for the conflicted, seeing truths and faults with both sides. We need more time.

**O5-7 :** But we may not have more time. We can contain SCP-1428-2 into the far foreseeable future, yes, but not SCP-682. We do not have any luxuries with SCP-682.


	14. The Beast Within

**SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"**

**Chapter 14: The Beast Within**

* * *

**Disclaimers:** During the writing process, all of the SCP number selections I have used were / are vacant. I don't intend to publish this on the wiki, so if the series number is now taken… the shits… I do not give them. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.

Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. Each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. The SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.

Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: _Bob_. Over Somewhere Else: **Bob.**

**Author's Notes:** Place your bets. In one corner with have Olivia Dunham, the girl with the Cortexiphan. In the other corner we have SCP-682, destroyer of worlds. Place your bets early now. I'm having fun with these. & I hope you're having fun, too.

* * *

**[[ LEVEL 5 CLEARANCE EYES ONLY ]]**

**Transcribed Overseer Assembly 01428-2-XB13-Omega**

**O5-7 :** But we may not have more time. We can contain SCP-1428-2 into the far foreseeable future, yes, but not SCP-682. We do not have any luxuries with SCP-682.

**O5-3 :** But we also can't afford any mistakes. The situation is grave, given the two subjects we're dealing with.

**O5-6 :** We've heard from the opposition for a while. Why not those in favor of sending SCP-1428-2 into SCP-682's chamber?

**O5-10 :** I'd like to make a stronger case.

**O5-5 :** Not more of that savior rhetoric again.

**O5-10 :** _No._

**O5-5 :** Then by all means. Try to change my mind.

**O5-10 :** You're afraid. We're _all_ afraid. The entire Foundation is afraid. And our fear is justified.

We have never come close to destroying SCP-682. The best we can do is fill a chamber with acid and hope it stays asleep. The best we can do is hope it's never provoked to rage. The best we can do is keep it locked away and _pray _for the best. We have nothing. Until now.

I am not asking for open combat. That is foolish and would guarantee the deaths of us all. I argue that we should deploy SCP-1428-2 to site [REDACTED] while SCP-682 is still submerged. While SCP-1428-2 is absent, we put SCP-1428-1 into a medically induced coma. Because if SCP-1428-1 were to experience another forced separation, it would trigger a massive empathic event. And we can't handle two potentially disastrous situations at the same time. I realize that-

**O5-4 :** But why go through even ONE disastrous situation in the first place? The motto of this foundation is to PROTECT, not bring about XK scenarios. We're supposed to be PREVENTING THEM, not _initiating _them.

**O5-5 :** And in the event that SCP-682 modifies itself after its exposure to SCP-1428-2… we will have nothing. There WILL be a XK event upon us.

**O5-10 :** _You two interrupted me_. Continuing from where I left off, I understand the risks. I realize the danger. But if we keep SCP-682 submerged, we can allow SCP-1428-2 to target and destroy it inside its containment chamber.

**O5-8 :** That's assuming that SCP-1428-2 would even consent to such an objective. And that's assuming that SCP-1428-2 would even value our objectives above its own. It might try to escape as soon as it's placed in the cell.

**O5-10 :** We'll simply have to persuade it.

**O5-2 :** But SCP-1428-2 is much too independent for that.

**O5-10 :** But we have to do SOMETHING. Keeping SCP-682 in its containment chamber isn't going to solve anything. This isn't détente. This is much more severe-

**O5-4 :** I'm glad you understand that. This IS much more severe.

…

**O5-3 :** I think we're ready for a vote.

**O5-5 :** I believe we are.

* * *

**Personal Log of Dr. Jung Kwon:**

They ruled in favor of it. I can't believe it. I just… if I had been on the O5… this would not be happening. But that's precisely it – I'm not an Overseer yet.

And if SCP-1428-2 is sent out for slaughter, I'll never become an Overseer. SCP-1428-2 is more than valuable to me; SCP-1428-2 has become everything. Cortexiphan and its hosts are my way to ascend the ranks. They **are** my future.

But all that's going to change. SCP-1428-2 is going to be destroyed, not SCP-682. And I'll only be left with SCP-1428-1, a subject that doesn't yield much of anything.

I'll start mentally preparing myself to change projects. It's all over.

* * *

**Personal Log of Dr. Brenda Montgomery:**

I can't believe they ruled in favor. I thought there was too much at risk… but I guess I was wrong. Again.

This is madness. Everyone here is mad. Innocent lives are at stake. HER life is at stake.

It was a mistake to come here. The SCP Foundation isn't about Protecting at all. It's about Securing and Containing POWER. Power that I'll never have. And power that I never want to have, if it drives you to such madness.

I'm going to apply for a position at Zoetics. And I'm going to…

* * *

After days of no contact whatsoever, one of the black guards entered their cell. And injected her. And pulled her up.

What was happening?

* * *

Olivia emerged from the haze, dizzy and stumbling. There were two guards helping her to a large metal gate, but as soon as they arrived at the gate, they were quick to retreat. She heard their heavy footsteps get farther and farther away from her. She heard the rustling and jumbling of their gear and their harsh, hurried breathing. They were frightened. They were terrified. They wanted nothing to do with her and more importantly, nothing to do with the thing that lay behind the metal gate.

Not this again. Not this kind of fuckery again, leaving her in front of another SCP's cell and hoping for her to come out of there alive. It was bullshit. She wasn't a lab rat. She wasn't an experiment. Not again. Not after all she had been through. She felt as if her life had gone a complete 360. She had escaped the perils of Jacksonville only to return to Jacksonville, although this time it was massive and underground. This time it was wretched and endless. And this time she couldn't escape. She couldn't escape the infinity.

She whipped her head back, glaring in the darkness, hoping to find a soldier to question. No one. She turned back to the metal gate, frayed blonde hair whipping around with her. No one. Not even Nick. No one. Just her and her tattered white clothes with SCP-1428-2 stamped across the chest.

The door had a similar stamp on it: SCP-682. It didn't matter. They were all the same to her. They were all the same to the SCP Foundation so why should she differentiate? They were all disposable. They were all subhuman. They were all prisoners and murderers. They weren't Nicks or Peters or Astrids; they were all anomalies, entities, subjects, and organisms.

The metal gate opened. She refused to step in. They could threaten her all they wanted; she would not go in willingly. She would not do this Foundation's bidding. She was not a puppet. She was not a soldier. She was Olivia Dunham and she wasn't just an anomaly for them to study. She wasn't just a subject to poke and prod. Not today. Today she had had enough. Today she was sick of being treated worse than the men in the orange suits, subject to die at the beginning of the month. She was sick of being treated anything less than the human she was. Today she would not submit to them. Today she would…

Fall into a haze. And step forward. Despite her intentions, despite her wishes, she would step forward. And she would lose herself within herself for only a moment.

* * *

But that moment had been crucial. Because now she was in a large enclosed room. And it was full of soldiers with their guns forever pointed at this monster in a tank made of steel. And yet even though it was made of steel, she could see it. She could peer past the steel and see the beast within.

But she couldn't describe the massive organism inside. It was beyond words. It was only fear. The thing in front of her was fear itself. It was every nightmare a person could have personified and multiplied twentyfold, fiftyfold, more than she could count.

She assumed the substance it was sitting in was acid. Because it had eaten away at the creature's flesh. She could see mostly bones and bits of what looked to be fur, but that only made the sight worse. Especially the skull pointed in her direction. The head of the creature alone was larger than her. And its teeth could rip her to shreds, if it so desired. She would die instantly, if it so desired. It made that SCP-173 yellow blob look like a mere house pet.

And now Olivia finally understood what this Foundation was built for. To keep monsters like this locked up away from the public. But no matter how heroic or how necessary it all was, that still didn't excuse the fact that they were locking her up, too. She was not the same as this thing in front of her. And that festered inside of her.

'I'm not like that. I'm Olivia. I'm _human_.' But wasn't the thing in front of her alive, too? Were they truly the same? Was Olivia really that dangerous?

But why was she here, if she was so dangerous? Why put two dangerous objects together? Was she expected to do something? Was she expected to kill it?

No. That had to be impossible. They surely didn't trust her with something as delicate as that… did they? She looked back up to the guards, the members of various forces; they hadn't said a word. She looked down at her dry and cracked hands and couldn't help but laugh. 'You're joking.' She thought SCP-173 was the end of their idiocy. Maybe **Walter** wasn't as calculating as his other two incarnates.

She was about to demand for her release. And they were about to demand for her cooperation. But something interrupted the two parties. Something stirred in that tank of acid. Something awakened and looked at Olivia. This brought on the panic of the soldiers above her, but they were oddly ordered to stand down. Those in power wanted to see what would happen. And Olivia wanted to see what would happen, too. Was this thing like SCP-173, capable of only motion and not sound? Capable of only movement and not action? Or was this thing just like her? A being fully conscious of its existence?

When it finally spoke, every hair Olivia had on her body stood on end. And a chill spread from the base of her neck reaching all the way to her Achilles' tendon. The voice was soft, yet it had such depth, such hatred burning behind it. It truly was a monster.

"_What is this?"_ Olivia wasn't sure if it was referring to her or the larger ordeal involving the Task Force. It spoke slowly, like it was barely conscious. _"What is… this?"_

Olivia couldn't see its eyes; its head was so massive. She didn't know where to look. She didn't know how to defend herself if the thing were to break free. The door was shut behind her and with one false step from Olivia's feet, every last one of those agents would shoot her where she stood. She was trapped. She was dead.

"_Another attempt… to kill me?" _It laughed. It laughed at her, laughed at the Task Force, laughed at the entire organization. _"It'll only end in failure. It always does." _

Olivia felt its gaze rest solely on her. It could see her, too, through the steel. It knew that she was there. And she felt a growl rise up from the beast and hit her in the face. _"You don't belong here."_

Her eyes widened. "Wh-what?" Her pulse stopped. Her jaw hung open. "How do you-?"

"_You are not like the rest." _It laughed again, low and menacing. _"How foolish of them."_

"How am I not like the rest?" Against all better judgment, against every cell in her body screaming against it, she took a few steps closer to the tank holding the thing. It knew, didn't it? It knew what she was. But what was it?

"_You are not from here. I am not from here. We are different."_

Olivia sprinted up to the steel and placed her hands on it. "Yes! I'm not! What are you? Where are you from?"

"Step away from the steel, SCP-1428-2," came an order from above.

Her body tensed. She prepared to take action, but-

"_I am having… a conversation. If you move… I will breach."_

Olivia shuddered. And she assumed that the Task Force members did, too. She heard them relax their guns. She heard them inhale and exhale. She heard their pulses beat rapidly. She heard them grit their teeth in anticipation and terror.

"_I am_…_" _But Olivia could not decipher the words the beast was growling. It did not register in her ears. If Astrid had been there, she might have been able to salvage some insight. But she was alone.

After two minutes, Olivia finally heard intelligible speech again. _"I am not from this universe. And you are not."_

Olivia was fortunate that finally someone else on this side understood her. But she was unfortunate that their words were being recorded for the Foundation to study. Soon they would know all of the secrets to Cortexiphan and all of the secrets to Cortexichildren.

But in that moment, she threw aside their listening in. She had to know. Perhaps she could escape right there. Perhaps this was her chance at last. Perhaps she could finally go home.

"**Which **universe?" Her universe? The Other Side? Was this one of _Walter's _creations? One of his scientific masterpieces gone wrong? Had he been responsible for all of this the entire time? Or was SCP-682 linked with The Pattern? Was it linked with The Observers? Or was it even linked with David Robert Jones? Could this be a beast created by his own team of experts? Is that why it knew so much about her? Had it been sent here to collect her? It was the perfect opportunity and plan… Nick and Olivia trapped in an entirely foreign universe with no rules, no strings attached. But she doubted it. And yet it seemed like a likely possibility. She was paranoid. But it was hard not to be in front of a metal case holding a massive reptilian-like figure. "What are you and how do you know this?"

But it only growled at her. Perhaps it, too, wanted to keep secrets from the Foundation.

She pressed again. "Where did you come from?"

"_Far away." _The growling grew louder. And it was mixed with something that sounded like gurgling. And stirring. Like it was moving in its containment chamber – which made the guards above her antsy.

Olivia was horrified, being so close to it. But she swallowed her fear, swallowed her saliva, and uttered, although barely over a harsh whisper, "I'm not afraid of you."

It returned to laughing, instead of growling. Olivia took that as a good sign. Perhaps she would still be alive in an hour or two. _"We want the same thing. To get out. You don't belong. I don't belong. Perhaps…" _It took a long pause. Olivia clenched her fists that were now resting against the sides of her thighs and bit her lip, waiting for its next words. _"Perhaps we could assist each other."_

Olivia's heart skipped a beat at the offer. But before she could truly absorb and consider it, guards came in from all directions. And the blackness fell with one foul swoop.

They had made a mistake.

* * *

Where was she? Everything was white. Just blank, bleak, bright whiteness. White hopeless infinity.

Who was that body? Hooked up to the tubes? Was that Nick?

Where was this? What was this?

What?

* * *

Clarity.

She was in her containment cell. She was in her thoughts. There was Nick right beside her, sleeping soundly. She was safe and free to consider SCP-682's offer. Or SCP-682's demands.

This was difficult. Part of her wanted to believe the creature from another universe trapped in this universe against its will. But another part of her did not trust the gigantic creature encased in metal and acid to protect it from the rest of the world, perhaps the rest of the universes.

But cooperating with that SCP-682 could be the only way of getting out of this Foundation hell hole. They wouldn't allow her to breach again, not after her failure however many weeks ago. The best she could do at this stage was a series of micro disasters. She could cut the power. She could kill a few guards. She could burn a hole through a wall and run out. But that would be all. After that, nothing. After that, failure. And after such events, Olivia would be punished with unconsciousness and separation. There was nothing to gain.

That beast could be her only chance. They shared the same motive – to escape. They might even share the same location – the same universe – to escape to. It might even possess the ability to universe-jump. And in the event that she had not been activated far enough, despite all the hell she had experienced in the Foundation, that would be the only way for her to get home. And Nick. She hoped that the beast would allow Nick to tag along. Because she couldn't leave without him. Not after everything they had been through. She could never bring herself to betray another human being like that. Especially a human being that depended on her so much. She was his everything and if she were to abandon him here, in the Foundation… No. It was too grim.

But would they all have the time or space to attempt to leave? In the event that Nick and her failed – if they phased in and out of reality and then came back, and all of this had been caught on camera – they would only have more questions to answer. Their trump card would be revealed; their true potential would be exposed. The Foundation would know the true capabilities of Walter Bishop and William Bell's Cortexichildren.

So Olivia was still hesitant. Even if this was the only shot of her escaping, of Nick escaping, she did not feel immediacy. She did not feel comfortable making a split decision to trust a monster the SCP Foundation had taken such extremes to keep contained.

Because there was no denying it – the SCP Foundation wanted the thing dead. She was an anomaly, but SCP-682 was a threat. It needed to be destroyed immediately – and that's why they had sent her there in the first place, hoping that she was strong enough to destroy it. And they were likely to try again. Until it died, she died, or some unknown possibility much worse than the previous two. The death of that creature was likely one of the top priorities of the Foundation. And they would be correct in having such a priority. If she failed to destroy SCP-682, possibly dying in the process, and SCP-682 escaped, their universe would be in danger. And possibly even **her** universe could be in danger. The threat of every universe in existence could be in danger.

Or if she decided to trust SCP-682, she could escape with it. But after that… then what? This was assuming that they could leave on amicable terms. But was a creature like that capable of such feelings? Of not even compassion but cooperation? The SCP Foundation did not trust such a being. It was strong, yes, but it was also intelligent. SCP-173 was not capable of speech, to the best of her knowledge, but this SCP was. And it was capable of deception. Every single thing it had said could have been a lie. Who's to say that the SCP wouldn't kill her as soon as they escaped? She could only be a means to an end. She could only be a pawn in that monster's eyes. It was capable of using her just like the human doctors could. She just didn't know what its motives were.

Yet it was the enemy of her enemy. The immediate threat the both of them faced was the SCP Foundation directly imprisoning them. Working together to defeat their collective threat was a victory in and of itself. They could be able to cooperate, in theory. Yet the "enemy of my enemy is my friend" concept only worked in certain situations; it didn't exist in a vacuum and it couldn't be applied uniformly in reality. Olivia had trusted many in her past, enemies of enemies, and yet they had deceived her, too. They would always deceive her in the end. There was no one she could really trust – especially some likely alien monster eight times her size.

If SCP-682 were to betray her, she would die. End of story. There was no alternative. She would not be able to hold her own outside of the SCP Foundation. Even with Nick, there would be no chance for them. Or at least she assumed so, judging by its size and hostility. Maybe they did stand a chance, but she would rather **not** fight it.

She just had a feeling not to trust it. And her feelings had always been right, Cortexiphan in her system or not. She always had intuition. She always knew the only person she could trust fully was herself.

* * *

**O5-4 :** What. Was. That. Someone please tell me what I just watched.

**O5-5 :** Nothing short of a disaster. If the Task Force had not intervened, we could have had a DUAL breach. This is the exact OPPOSITE of what we wanted. Why did the rest of you vote in favor of such insanity?

**O5-10 :** I don't know what feed you were watching, but nothing happened. SCP-682 did not react to SCP-1428-2 –

**O5-12 :** I'd still classify identifying SCP-1428-2 as a _kindred spirit_ and wanting to breach with it as a "reaction." But that's just me.

**O5-4 :** No, you're absolutely right.

**O5-6 :** Could we please have order?

**O5-5 :** How in the HELL can you always be so apathetic about these things? Don't you even CARE? We all could have DIED.

**O5-7 :** I'd rather us not devolve to the emotional state of D-Class personnel, please. Could we maintain some order? We are the OVERSEER class for a reason, are we not?

**O5-5 :** I'm sorry. I'll compose myself. I… I haven't been myself lately.

**O5-3 :** We are fortunate that nothing physical happened. Words were exchanged, but there were no actions. And as soon as SCP-1428-2 was removed, SCP-682's agitation started to diminish. It's calmer now. And SCP-1428-2 is observed to be calmer now, too.

**O5-5 :** But it's contemplating the offer. It's contemplating trusting it and we can't have that happen.

**O5-2 :** These are all valid observations, but I believe you are all missing the heart of the matter – the real gem to collect from all of this.

**O5-9 :** And that would be…?

**O5-4 :** That we've made an incredibly grave mistake.

**O5-2 :** No. Quite the opposite, actually. We've gotten more than we could ever want, more than we could ever gather. As soon as Dr. Kwon sees the footage, he will probably be the most pleased out of all of us.

**O5-4 :** How could someone be _pleased _after seeing such a response from SCP-682?

**O5-2 :** But I **am** pleased. Identifying it as a "kindred spirit" is just what we needed. We now know the true identity of our SCP-1428-2.

**O5-3 :** You BELIEVE that they're both from different universes? How_ can_ you? We all know that SCP-682 doesn't readily give information about itself.

**O5-2 :** But it wasn't sharing the information to _us_; it was sharing it to SCP-1428-2, knowing full well that we would receive it, too. To SCP-682, getting it to SCP-1428-2 was much more important.

**O5-9 :** And what exactly have we gathered from this incident?

**O5-2 :** SCP-1428-2 has been hiding more than we could have ever imagined from us. It can traverse universes. It is from a _different_ universe. This opens up the possibilities to anything. It's endless. And it's exciting. This was the best thing to happen for the Cortexiphan project. We are going to make true progress.

**O5-4 :** As we're making process, what are we going to do about SCP-682? It's not like it's going to forget its meeting with SCP-1428-2. It's going to ask for it.

**O5-3 :** We'll address it when the time comes. I motion for this assembly to adjourn. Is there a second?

**O5-12 :** Second.

**O5-2 :** We're going to make _excellent_ progress.

* * *

**O5 Log 01428-00682-Z5B12-O2-1:**

My O5 colleagues do not share my enthusiasm in light of the 1428-2-682 Incident. No matter. I possess the thirst for knowledge and I will make my own progress, if need be. I have done it before. I have for many years. I have for many rotations and combinations of the Overseer staff. And I have remained when so many have left or fallen. And for good reason.

Today's proceedings have only solidified my suspicions. My link between SCP-001 and SCP-1428-2 is become steadily justified. The more we learn from SCP-1428-2, the ever-stronger that link becomes. Especially now that SCP-1428-2 is an entity that can transcend universal barriers. It can pass through the potential fabrics of universes and it can already see potential futures. All these AND SCP-1428-2 can relate empathically to others, on levels I hope I will soon be able to understand. These abilities are probably more intricately linked than I can even predict, but they **are** linked. It will unlock the secrets to the universe / universes.

And yet no one else sees that. My colleagues are either too focused on trying to destroy SCP-682 [this is a necessary task, but we are losing perspective in the midst of things], trying to revitalize Project Olympia [it was doomed from the start, overambitious, and lacking focus; why must they even bother?], or trying to recreate Cortexiphan [the substance is not the important factor here; the hosts are. Dr. Kwon is going about this entirely wrong, although I do respect his vision and his commitment]. All of those goals are irrelevant; all of those motives are secondary. Instead we should be focusing on SCP-1428-2. We should be focusing on its unique factors that we have never seen in our universe because it is NOT from our universe. How are my colleagues not overjoyed at this discovery? At perhaps proof that there ARE other universes besides are own, thus explaining why there are phenomena for us to contain and study in the first place? Why are they stuck in their apathetic and aloof mindsets? Where is the passion for discovery?

Perhaps I should have never advanced up the Foundation's hierarchy. Perhaps I should have stayed a Doctor. **Elizabeth** always thought I made a better Doctor. Up until her death…

The host will tell us everything there is to know. I am sure of it. It will answer all of my questions, solve all of my problems. It will give the existence of our Foundation true meaning and true purpose. We will know what we must do and why.

And yet they'll call me crazy. But those who believed the earth revolved around the sun were first thought crazy. Those who believed that the earth was round, and rejected the edge of the world, were first thought crazy. Those who believed that there was a New World, a group of landmasses never before seen by European eyes, were first thought crazy. Those who believed in gods were first thought crazy and those who rejected such gods were first thought crazy. I am amongst these men before their time. I stand with these giants of existence. They held true to their beliefs despite their doubtful peers and I intend to do the same.

And I shall find the truths of our existence. No matter what it takes, there will be answers. Knowledge will prevail.


	15. It Takes a Moment

**SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"**

**Chapter 15: It Takes a Moment**

* * *

**Disclaimers:** During the writing process, all of the SCP number selections I have used were / are vacant. I don't intend to publish this on the wiki, so if the series number is now taken… it probably went to a better idea than mine anyway. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.

Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. Each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. The SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.

Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: _Bob_. Over Somewhere Else: **Bob**.

**Author's Notes:** If you squint your eyes, you can see ships galore. & it's pretty refreshing to type some less stressful less brutal human interactions for a change. Gah what a wonderful breather. I can't imagine what you guyz are going through, but sometimes this shit gets really dark.

Again in the first drafts of this story… I had Astrid stay behind. NOPE. NOT TODAY. ** DISREGARD CANON TREATMENT OF ASTRID, INCORPORATE MORE ASTRID INTO THIS FUCKING STORY.**

HELLO DOLLY ANYTHING DOES NOT BELONG TO ME OKAY. ALSO DON'T GET USED TO THE RELATIVE HAPPINESS OF THIS CHAPTER. IT'S GOING TO BE A RARE THING.

* * *

"This… this all might actually work, Peter." Walter had a lot more perk to his step now, compared to a week ago – even a day ago. "Even with _that man_…"

"Walter…" Peter warned. But surprisingly, Walter had been very civil to his counterpart as of late, refraining from making any sneering comments or glares for the duration of their brainstorming-planning-replanning-rereplanning-rer ereplanning session. Peter was actually proud of his father's newfound maturity. Maybe this would do both men some good.

A shame it had to come at the expense of Olivia, though. A shame it had to come at the expense of anyone. But perhaps it had been necessary, as reluctant and disturbed as he was to admit it. Maybe they all needed this rude awakening and wrenching loss to finally focus collectively with the Other Side.

Or at least he kept telling himself that. To numb the gnawing pain of it all away. Walter could easily dive into projects when he wanted to. He could completely lose himself in the immersion – and he had and he was, even with a man he usually despised. But Peter… Peter… all he could think about was Olivia. Unlike the two Walters, he couldn't shift focus to the task at hand. He stayed there, drowning in his troubles, drowning in his losses, drowning in his guilt that kept him awake at night, boring holes into the ceiling and sweating into his sheets night after night.

He could have gone with her. Or he could have insisted that they go together. He could have steered her away from that Nick Lane. Steered her to the bakery and then to Walter's. He could have prevented this all from happening. He could have kept her safe. He could have _done_ something.

Instead of sitting in the bathroom cutting himself with his razor as he shaved. Like a failure.

"Peter?"

Usually he was the one to rouse Walter from the depths of his mind. It was rather uncharacteristic for it to be the other way around. And it only made him feel all the more guilty and inadequate.

"When we get back to the lab, I'll be sure to make you a special…" But Peter didn't quite catch that last remark. He was already gone.

"Yeah," Peter murmured, looking across at the bridge between the two worlds. And then back down to his feet, kicking the metal flooring with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders shrugged. "Sounds great, Walter." His voice was flat. Everything about him was flat.

The two stepped through the bridge.

Peter's fists were shaking.

* * *

Peter was parked in one of the offices further away from the lab. He wasn't huddled in the corner, rocking back and forth like a baby, but he was still in the corner. And he was just standing there. Waiting for direction – guidance – anything at all to come from somewhere at all. But there was nothing to receive.

Unless he counted the Oreo milkshake Walter came bouncing in with.

"I outdid myself this time, Peter." Walter was giddy, almost to the point of spilling the contents of the glass beakers all over his brown shoes. "I-"

But something snapped in Peter. The last time had been during the incident with Walter ranting and raging on the countertop, throwing various glass vessels onto the floor and growling. And if there had been any excrement made readily available, Walter most certainly would have thrown that, too. Probably at Peter's face.

But something snapped. After weeks of his poker face, it finally broke. _"How can you be so calm?!"_ He sounded just like Walter that day, exasperated and irrational and loud. He was all the qualities he had hated when Walter embodied them. But he didn't care. He had been holding in all the anger and torment and guilt and loss inside him, in a futile effort to stay strong for Walter. But it had backfired horrendously. And instead of the normal course of events [Peter comforting Walter], Walter would have to console him.

"_How can you be so calm, Walter?!"_ He repeated; he yelled and beat his thighs with his fists. "How can you be making milkshakes, like nothing's changed? How? I'm falling apart, but you… you're acting like Olivia never left._**It's disgusting**_."

Walter forced the milkshake into Peter's hand, but he didn't have to force a concerned look on his face. And he didn't take any of Peter's words to heart. He KNEW how much Olivia was to him and this was completely acceptable. "Breathe, Peter. And drink. I know this has been hard on you."

"I…" Now Peter found it hard to even form words. To even find words. His vocabulary and his vocal cords shriveled up into nothing. And he felt tears welling up in his eyes.

Walter recognized this. And he gave him a gentle smile. "You're too hard on yourself, Peter."

"But I could-"

"You need to accept it – accept that what happened _happened_."

"But-"

"You can't change it, Peter. You can't go back in time and correct what has transpired. And even if you could, I would advise against it. You don't know what kind of unforeseen consequences that might have on the fabric of – oh that's not the point." Walter wet his lips and pried himself away from one of his tangents. "But what you CAN do, Peter, is focus on getting her back. You CAN focus on staying strong for her." Walter cupped Peter's face with his right hand. "And don't you for an **instant** blame yourself, Peter. If there's anyone to blame for all of this, it's me."

Peter looked down at the milkshake. It certainly did look delicious, and a bit absurd in that 3000ml beaker. There was whipped cream piled high, looking perfect enough to be in a commercial – except this whipped cream was real and wasn't artificial, to the best of his knowledge. And all the cookie bits throughout made his mouth water and his stomach sing. And it looked oh so creamy. And a little bit of it was melting and streaming down the beaker, beckoning for him to indulge.

But did he deserve it? After all that happened, did he deserve such indulgence? And did he even deserve such kindness from Walter? Even a gift as small as a milkshake, had he done enough to deserve it?

"Please, Peter," Walter gently insisted. "_Please_."

Peter reluctantly sipped. But what followed was a rushing wave of euphoria and relief.

"Take your time. We can't leave until I locate the old blueprints anyway. And Walternate won't miss us too much." Walter began to walk out of the office. But he turned his head to peek at Peter. And he couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah," Peter murmured, taking another generous sip from the turquoise blue crazy straw with three loops shoved rather aggressively into the beaker. "Alright. Sounds great, Walter."

Peter's fists weren't shaking anymore.

* * *

"Just Leave Everything to Me" blasted throughout the lab. Peter was confused to say the least at Walter's sudden [and violent] Hello Dolly! Interest, but he let the matter go. If it would help them find whatever they needed to find, he would put up with it; for the good of the cause.

But while _"If you want your ego bolstered, muscles toned, or chair upholstered: just leave everything to me"_ and other various lyrics buzzed in their ears, the two were picking apart the lab. It would've been a quicker ordeal, but Walter kept reminiscing on the random items they kept finding. And spazzing quite strongly on seemingly each and every one.

"What a STEAL this was!" Walter pulled a purple bowtie out of a cardboard box, a box that looked like all the rest scattered about the floor. "I went to Geneva's Bio-Edge convention with William in this. And we met two very lovely women. Great teeth, greater posteriors. And their breasts…"

"_I'll discretely use my own discretion / I'll arrange for making all arrangements / I'll proceed to plan the whole procedure / I'll proceed to plan the whole procedure / Just leave everything to m-"_

"**Walter?!**"

"Aphid is that you?" Walter dropped the bowtie and twirled to face her. "It's so good to see you, my dear."

Astrid wasn't sure she made the best decision, between being called "aphid" and discovering the mess she would most likely have to clean littered about. She pouted at Walter, but she was still happy to see them. Especially after so long. So she was able to let the matter go and forgive him. Again. Sometimes she wondered if he really knew her name at all. She had her suspicions, but she still loved the man.

"I got back late last afternoon, but you weren't here. And Broyles was away at a meeting and wasn't available. The only person who could've known where you were was Lincoln… but he was with me the entire time. So that left no one with high enough clearance. And I got really worried because no one knew where you were – only Broyles. And no one had left a note and no one had called and I had no one to turn to… and… I'm so happy to see you all again." Astrid's anxious energy came back. "Where were you guys?"

Walter gave Peter an apprehensive look. He didn't want to tell her. He wanted as little people as possible to know, in case it all didn't turn out. In case it all went catastrophically wrong.

"Nowhere, m'dear. We just went out for a long stroll. I needed to clear my head, you see." Walter blinked rapidly and fiddled his cold belt buckle with shuddering fingers. He swallowed. He diverted his eyes. He hoped that Astrid wouldn't see his various tells. He hoped that she would let matters go. Maybe she'd go home for the evening and make it easier for them to find the plans and leave. And maybe Peter could just leave a note. Say that they were going to their old house to get away from things. Because Walter was having a nervous break. Astrid could buy that, right? They wouldn't have to explain the mess they were in to her, right? She would be able to stay out of it, right? Stay safe? Stay away from things, just in case they all came crashing down? He couldn't lose someone else. He'd lost too many people in his life.

But she knew him all too well. And she could see Peter's face bunching up in protest. And she could hear Peter yell, in great disbelief and frustration, "Walter?! What are you doing?!"

"I'm telling her what happened, Peter; what are YOU doing?" Walter countered while striking the papered floor with the bottom of his foot.

"I was hoping that you would tell her what **really **happened; I don't know where this strolling-to-clear-my-head nonsense is coming from." Peter threw the useless scraps of paper in his hands up into the air for them to come dramatically cascading down, although a bit closer to his face than he had planned. "What the hell is this?! What the hell are you acting like this for?! She deserves to _know, _Walter. If we could tell Broyles, we can definitely tell her."

"Tell me what?" Astrid folded her arms and stepped closer to them, making sure not to slip on all the papers and random items cast about. "What do I deserve to hear, Walter?"

He couldn't refuse to tell her. Not with that face. That face was final. With one of her eyebrows arched and her foot impatiently tapping. Suddenly he felt waves of guilt and shame. Suddenly he felt like a child, like he had just ruined his mother's favorite dress.

But if he told her, he couldn't look up. He would settle on looking at his brown and dirty shoes, making the papers under his feet as brown as they were. If he told her, he didn't want to see her face. And if he told her, he would have to give her the short version. Just the essential minimum, nothing else. The less she knew, the better it would be.

"You were still searching for Olivia, at the time, with the search teams. But… we received a visit from an Observer – September."

Astrid pushed her hands to her mouth, "What did he say?! What happened? Tell me!"

"He told us where Olivia was. And he told us how to get her." Peter smiled at the giddy Astrid, finally releasing all of the bottled up energy since this mess had started. He knew that she cared about Olivia. Not the same level as him, but it was still a level. And she had suffered just as they had suffered. And she deserved this news, not just them. She was important in Olivia's life and Olivia was important in hers. That's why he couldn't understand why Walter had been so reluctant to share the news in the first place. But the man had his reasons. He always had reasons… but Peter didn't always understand them. Or agree with them, usually. "He didn't tell us much after that. We're doing the best we can on the Other Side, trying to construct a device."

"That's plenty, given how little our teams have been able to come up with." Astrid jumped in the air and clapped her hands together, squealing. All of that energy was releasing at the same time. And she had been waiting for a long time. "So when do we get to see Olivia again?" This was the happiest she had ever felt in a while. She felt as if she had been living in darkness and the sun had finally appeared in the sky again. She felt hope and purpose soaring back into her life after so long.

"Constructing the machine will be… difficult." Walter had to look up at her. He had to see her face. And her face looked certainly relieved; she finally happy after weeks at a time of frowns and furrowed brows and dark circles. Astrid had come alive again. She was in full bloom after a prolonged, harsh winter. And it was beautiful. "I don't have a time-table yet, Orchid."

Orchid was a hell of a lot better than Aphid. And after the news she had just received, Astrid would have accepted any name Walter had in store for her. Or accepted most names.

"But it can't be too difficult, can it? You have the Other Side at your disposal – all of their advanced resources. And you'll have the other version of me. And you'll have ME." If the entire team was going to the Other Side, there would be nothing left for her to do here. She would have nothing. Unless she wanted to take a job probably below her skillset… or a job that would be numbingly mindless… but that was completely out of the question. She had stayed with Bishop's Shop of Horrors this far; it was too late to turn back now. Especially after the absence of Olivia. She was too important. She OWED a lot to Olivia. And she wanted to see them all happy again.

"But you-" Walter hesitated. He had been looking up at her for a while, but he still couldn't make eye-contact. And it wasn't that his body was physically unable; he just _refused _to do so. And he refused to even open his eyes when he told her, "I don't want you to follow us."

"WHAT?!" She sounded outraged. She had every right to be.

"You must stay _here, _my dear." He hastily whispered, "I don't want anything to happen to you." Walter looked over to Peter, who had gone suspiciously silent. This was Walter's battle to fight. Peter wasn't coming to Walter's rescue. And Astrid certainly did not need anyone else to win her cause. Perhaps he wasn't making the battle fair. That was Walter's loss.

Astrid stomped her foot. She didn't care if she looked immature in front of them. The man in front of her was immature on a regular basis. It was time for her to put her foot down – again, literally. She would not be babied. She would not be coddled. She was an agent of her own right, not just Walter's babysitter or lab assistant or sous chef or housemaid. She was Agent Farnsworth. And Agent Farnsworth cared about Olivia, too.

"You're not the only one who cares, Walter. I know I'm not the mad scientist that you are, but I can help. Anything that they need me to do, I will do it – for Olivia. I want to get her back, too. I want to see her again. I want our family unit to be whole again." Tears were welling in Astrid's eyes. Her voice was about to falter, but she stubbornly refused. "I'm not going to stay back and do nothing, especially if I can be of help."

Walter was touched, touched at how strongly Astrid felt. She didn't always share her feelings with them… but then again, she wasn't always given the opportunity to. Walter felt a bit guilty. Astrid was always catering to **his **needs, not the other way around. Maybe this was time for him to break even with her. He put his hands on her shoulders and finally looked her in the eye. "My dear, please; I don't want you getting hurt. You always go out of your way for me. You don't have to do this, Astrid."

Astrid's tears fell more freely. She didn't want to stay behind. She didn't but… Walter sounded so sincere. Walter felt so strongly about her… so much that he remembered her name. At this very moment he DID know. He DID care. He DID view her as more than a housecleaner, an assistant, a babysitter, a sous chef. And yet… "I _**can't, **_Walter. It's Olivia. She'd do anything if something were to happen to me and I'm going to do the same for her. It's the right thing."

Walter sighed. When he removed his hands from her shoulders they fell limply at his sides. He conceded. "Fine, dear. But if anything happens to you… I'll never be able to forgive myself."

* * *

Why had everything happened while he had been away? Every single important thing that could ever happen… happened. The news from September. The meeting with the Walter from the Other Side. The supposed truce they had to construct the device. And now… the invitation to go to that side to work with them – all of them. Was this all a dream? Was this really happening?

It was. After a world without hope, there was hope. After a world without golden light, there was light. He had gone for weeks with dwindling hope, coming up empty from site after site after site. And Astrid had taken it even harder than him. She had gotten paler and frailer every day. And they had both lost sleep, lost their appetite, lost all motivation almost entirely.

But now an electric shock had jolted him back to life. He had purpose. He had hopes of seeing Olivia again. Their team would be complete. Everything would go back to whatever the Fringe sense of normal was. They wouldn't have to worry about her disappearance. She would be back home where it was relatively safer. She would be back home where she belonged.

And now he was on the opposite side of the bridge, awaiting the rest of the team. Eagerly. Tapping his heels together, fiddling with his bow-tie, even whistling a tune – off-key still, but he hadn't whistled in a while. He would allow himself this embarrassing pleasure. It was a piss-poor rendition of "Put on Your Sunday Clothes," but no one was around to critique him. And he wouldn't have listened to their critiques anyway. Yes his blowing sounded quite strained at parts, but he was much too happy to care about proper pitch and technique. _"For there's no blue Monday in your Sunday... No Monday in your Sunday... No Monday in your Sunday clothes!" _

And after a few more minutes of this awkward nervous excitement, he saw them. And he saw Astrid first, who sprinted from the doorway to him, hugging him furiously and exclaiming, "What are you doing here, Lincoln?! Did Broyles tell you?"

He embraced her, too, picking her off the ground and laughing, "You guys can't have all the fun yourselves, can you?" He peeked around Astrid's fluffy coiled hair and grinned at the two Bishops now emerging from the bridge. "And Broyles told me everything."

"We're going to get her back, Lincoln!" Astrid's eyes shone as she let go of him. "After so long."

"Yeah." Lincoln smiled. Probably larger than he should have, but he didn't care. He should have known better, smiling so mysteriously in front of Peter, but he didn't care. "Yeah, we are." If he turned around fast enough, maybe Peter wouldn't even notice.

Maybe he wouldn't notice at all.

* * *

When Walter had arrived with the plans, the pace had increased one hundred fold. Astrid's counterpart was not there to aid the Walters, but a few handpicked assistants [including _Brandon Fayette_] were.

In less than an hour, raw materials were gathered from the corners of the globe to construct such a device. And they were handled with the utmost care and precision. Peter would be lying if he didn't say he was impressed. _Secretary Bishop_ held such power in society Over There – Over _Here_. Science held so much more power Over Here. Sometimes Peter wondered what his life would have been like if he had stayed. There were certain things about this world that were better… but he didn't have time to daydream. He only had time to work.

And they worked at a blistering pace. Peter could scarcely see where his fingers ended and the tools in his hands began. Or where they even were sometimes. And he didn't even know what he was doing half the time. There was no ideal endgame device truly set in store, since they were modifying as they went, hoping to reach a projected scenario. Walter trusted what Peter could do with his hands. They all trusted each other to reach the end result.

Peter didn't know what Lincoln was doing, but he had to have been doing something. Sure the man wasn't anywhere near close to a mechanic, but there was probably a use for him in this mess of science and engineering and planning and allocating. Even Astrid was bickering away with one of the assistants. The two of them were concerned over something that he couldn't bother to concern himself with now. He was given a task and he needed to stick to it, or they wouldn't get anything done. Specialization would be the key to completion.

They didn't have a timetable, but it needed to be completed as fast as possible. Walter had suggested a week. _Walter _had challenged such a proposal, worried that it was too long a time period. He countered with four days. But four days was insane. Four days was ludicrous. FOUR days to make these materials into useable parts and then using those parts to make the components of a device still being debated about behind Peter and then using those components to make a device that still needed information from September, who hadn't shown his face anytime soon, and then hoping for the best? But his father accepted the challenge. If his counterpart was confident and determined that they could do more in less, why not?

But as a result, Peter had been working for hours without as much as a break. No food, no water. The only solace he had was stopping a bit to blink. And the only fluids related to Peter were expelled. He was getting dizzy. But he needed to push on. Everything he was doing, he was doing for Olivia.

He took a peek behind him. Still arguing. Still messing with the plans on the touchscreen table _Walter _had shipped in from his department. _Walter _would expand and theorize on an aspect, but then Walter would completely deconstruct it. Or the opposite. Or an assistant would chime in and give his tentative opinion and BOTH Walters would tear him to bits, calling him nothing less than a primitive being. The tensions were high. The risks were high. The needs were high. Everything seemed like it was going to collapse. It was stifling.

And with that Peter just needed a break. He pushed himself away from his stool and waltzed out of the area. He needed to clear his head from all the warm buzzing or he would lose it.

And when he opened the door to the relative outside world, the cool freshness of lighter air hit him and coated him with relaxation. Much better. When he opened his eyes and actually focused on the room before him, he was surprised. This was supposed to function as a break room. But it hadn't been used in seven hours. The couches were blue and the appliances were sleek and state of the art.

He heaved a sigh of relief. There was a coffee machine. He would survive through this ordeal after all.

The door opened behind him while he was in the middle of pouring a cup. "I'll be right back, Walter; I swear. If I don't drink something, I'll keel over and I'm not much use if I'm incapacitated."

"It's alright. I won't tell."

He whipped around, almost splashing the beverage on himself. "Oh. I didn't know you would be here."

"I didn't know I would be here, either." _Olivia _entertained him with a smile. "But I am. Probably to babysit all of you so you don't turn your weapons of mass destruction against each other." She smirked, fumbling with a pink box in her hands. "I also brought doughnuts. I was going to tackle the mess outside…"

Peter shook his head, "Once they're in the zone… it's best to leave them be. They'll come in soon enough." He heaved his aching body on one of the couches and groaned, "Oh god, that feels good." He tipped his head up to her and grinned, "And if you wouldn't mind, I'd like a doughnut."

"Help yourself." She walked over and opened the box. "Take your pick."

"Those custard-filled ones will surely excite Walter – but I bet you already knew that." Peter reached for one glazed in chocolate. "He might be suspicious and think you're trying to tempt him with sweets again."

_Olivia _rolled her eyes. "He can think whatever he wants."

Awkward sustained silence. _Olivia _sat on the couch opposite to him and stared at nothing in particular. Peter chewed his doughnut profoundly. After a few minutes of that painful silence, "Thanks for the… yeah." Peter held up the doughnut to describe the "yeah" and then brought it back to his mouth.

"Yeah, no problem." She shifted her legs so that one rested over the other, right over left. The box was on the table between them. She had a faint smile on her face. Peter couldn't read it. Was she just being polite or did she still hold something for him? He wasn't sure if he even wanted to know.

More of that sustained silence. More chewing and leg moving and staring at the grey walls behind each other.

"I…" _Olivia_ hesitated, cleared her throat, and then hesitated again. "I… I hope your girl's worth it." She reached back to scratch something behind her head to make it seem a bit more casual. "For all this."

Peter waited to finish chewing. He initially planned on saying a lot. He wanted to assure this woman how much Olivia truly meant to him. Because it sounded like his love was being tested. And it sounded like she was still interested. But by the time he finished chewing… he wasn't so sure about that. And he settled with a simple "She is. Trust me."

Her smile only got wider. "It's almost incredibly romantic – going across universes for someone." She sighed and looked down at the pink box of doughnuts, "I wish the people I've liked could have had that commitment."

"I've done it countless times so believe me, it's not really as romantic as it sounds." Peter took a deep sip of the strong coffee, a rarity in this universe that he was grateful to accept. 'There's a lot of effort and a lot on the line. But…' But he could see where she was coming from. It IS a bit romantic, transcending across space and time for someone. And yet… it was so painfully obvious for him. He would do ANYTHING to get Olivia back. ANYTHING.

"Well I applaud your efforts, valiant sir," she bowed her head in mock respect – or was it really as mocking as it looked?

"Now I wouldn't go to such extremes," Peter chuckled. "It's what any decent person would do."

"Decent, huh?" She looked down to the floor now. Peter noticed that. What was the matter? In that moment, he looked a lot more like **his** Olivia. Her eyes were darker, her face was darker, everything about her was darker. Instead of being cheerful and confident she was… uncharacteristically down. He wasn't making the mistake of confusing the two, but he was actually worried. Why was she acting like this? She was confident and driven and motivated – probably so much that she scared away potential suitors, but her time would come. What was the rush?

"I'm certain someone feels – or _will_ feel – the same way about you, too." Peter ended the bit of "advice" with a small chuckle, hoping to dispel the seriousness of it – like she had only a few minutes ago.

She faked a smile. "Yeah. I suppose you're right."

There was a window glancing into the working area right across from her, behind Peter. Someone with short dirty blond hair was walking behind the mass of people in white coats. She couldn't tell if he was from her universe or the other. But soon she saw that little piece of tech settled on his ear. And the hair was a bit more ruffled and unkempt. And he had a bit of a 5:00 shadow.

Her smile turned into a real smile. And it only got bigger. "Yeah. You're right." There was.


	16. The Grind

**SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"**

**Chapter 16: The Grind**

* * *

**Disclaimers:** During the writing process, all of the SCP number selections I have used were / are vacant. I don't intend to publish this on the wiki, so if the series number is now taken… look at how many fucks I give, Anakin. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.

Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. Each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. The SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.

Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: _Bob_. Over Somewhere Else: **Bob**.

**Author's Notes:** This chapter may or may not also symbolize the grind I face while trying to crank out these little shits. This was so much easier when college was on winter break or when my classes were like in the weaksauce early stages of the semester. But now it's like try to say sane & not have a nervous breakdown because of overwhelming everything. I'm trying to make do. I'm sorry.

* * *

_I don't want to say "I told you so" over the SCP-682 incident and the fuckery it's caused amongst this Foundation, but…_

_I CALLED IT. CHECK BACK IN THOSE LOGS BECAUSE I CALLED IT._ – Dr. ████

* * *

Olivia hadn't seen anyone or anything apart from Nick – or SCP-682 and the guards used to remove her from its containment chamber – in what felt like weeks. Maybe it was weeks. It probably _was_weeks.

The Foundation had committed a foul mistake, she assumed. And likewise they were afraid of the consequences. SCP-682 had expressed its interest in her. It saw the common denominator between them. It admitted, even in front of the Task Force and the multitude of recording devices in its chamber, that they were similar anomalies, anomalies that the Foundation could not understand or control. It shared her hostility for the Foundation. It shared so many characteristics.

And yet… they were not the same. Or at least, she hoped they weren't. Olivia was still human. Olivia respected and protected the lives of others. This SCP-682 cared only for itself and those that could directly help it. It was a creature with one goal and one goal only – escape. Any person or anything that stood in its way would be crushed. Mercilessly.

Olivia hoped that she would never reach such a state of resentment or desperation. She hoped she would never be driven to such extremes – such hatred. But how long had they been in this Foundation's clutches? Months? Her sense of time in this Foundation – in this universe – had been distorted. And it wasn't just because the two of them were locked in rooms with no windows and flooded with thick orange gas every few minutes or so. Even before they had been captured, something felt off. Something felt quite out of balance and out of sync.

If there had been a real Fringe Division, a division based on genuinely saving lives through actual understanding and relative trust, she would have presented these concerns to them. If the Foundation had only welcomed their existence and respected their abilities, she would have shared everything with them. Perhaps these anomalies were similar to the degradation Over There? Perhaps this was another form of degradation that could occur across the universes? Or did that make any sense? Alas, she was not Walter Bishop.

And perhaps the orange gas was clouding her judgment. The two of them were starting to build a tolerance for the substance, but it still saturated the room and affected her to some extent. Sometimes it got so thick that she couldn't even see Nick right beside her. Sometimes she couldn't even see her own body laid out before her. Sometimes she just couldn't even see – only orange.

* * *

What kept Olivia up at night was that confrontation with SCP-682. If she ever got the chance to see it again [she doubted that], what would she say? Would she welcome its proposal? Would she seize the opportunity and breach with it? Would she escape and possibly leave Nick behind? Or would she oppose the invitation as well as the monster? Or was opposition a foolish position to take against a beast of such power?

How strong was the SCP / subject / monster anyway? What sort of a chance did she really stand? The Foundation obviously had some confidence in her skills to send her there without Nick, but they had obviously made many blunders when it came to the topic of her. And now they were quite afraid of the possibility of the two of them getting together, as evidenced by this degree of segregation. But they weren't really afraid of HER exactly, were they?

The character of SCP-682… was she correct not to trust it? Her judgment of people was always spot on, with or without Cortexiphan activated, but this wasn't exactly a person. This wasn't even an animal. It was an alien from another universe, something she didn't really specialize in. Something she wasn't really sure you _could _specialize in.

And yet… Olivia couldn't help but feel… a bond between the two anomalies. As if she had found a kindred anomaly amongst the insanity of this prison. Or was it just mere coincidence that this "bond" was even happening at all? Was there really a "bond," or was Olivia forcing conclusions together after being trapped for so long; was she finally letting desperation cloud her judgment? In any circumstance, she wouldn't go into that chamber unless her life depended on it. She wouldn't even consider trusting that thing, maybe even if her life depended on it. And yet… this WAS the other circumstance; the unlikely, the unthinkable, the unimaginable had happened – like it always did for her. And yet… she didn't think this slew of current events would unfold in such a way. It was foolish and naïve to cling to such thoughts, given the abnormal context of her life, and yet… being abducted in another universe with Nick Lane… it was still such an outlier of a possibility. And yet it had happened.

So should she trust the being – the outlier – just like herself? Despite any hesitancy and doubt she had, could she trust it? It COULD be her only chance. It could be THEIR only chance.

And yet… she still resisted. And she felt guilty for doing so. This very well COULD be the only chance for Nick to escape and Nick alone, and yet… she wasn't even entertaining it? And to make the guilt exponentially worse, she had **lied** to Nick about it. When he had come out of the cloud coma they had forced him into, she simply lied right through those trusting blue eyes of his. She lied and said that she had been by him all that time, in the haze right alongside him. And he had trusted her. He would always trust her because she was his Olive and it ate her up inside. It felt like her insides were coated with that brownish-red substance caked in SCP-173's containment chamber. She felt like a Dr. Hendricks-type individual. It was awful.

Did he know that she was lying? That she was fixating too much on everything? Did he read the inner turmoil she had inside her? Or was it something else? Because ever since Nick had opened up to her, he hadn't said anything since. Something had changed in their dynamic between them. And she didn't like it. She didn't like it at all.

And she couldn't help but feel disgusted at the range of emotions she was experiencing. It was so unlike her to experience one emotion, let alone the countless sequences she had plaguing her in the matter of minutes and hours. She blamed the cell. And she needed to get out of it. She NEEDED to. There was nothing left for her to think about amongst the orange gas and the hissing silence.

* * *

What kept Nick up at night was his hatred. He hated it here. He hated feeling so weak – weaker than he had ever been before.

They kept them so systematically sedated, so submissive. They kept their powers – their true sense of selves – muted. They ripped from him the only thing he had. And left him naked in the orange gas on his pathetic mattress of a bed. They ripped from him the only confidence he had in himself and left him as a raw and disposable sack of flesh.

And spent. The remnants of soul he had left in that flesh was exhausted, and it wasn't from the gas. It was from… _everything_. Everything was taking its toll on him. Mounting and piling on his shoulders forever glued to the mattress.

The gassing was endless and the pain was endless. He wanted to die. Even with Olive right next to him, faithfully forever by his side, he wanted nothing more but to die. And there was nothing in there to give him that sweet release. No weapon. No strength to use such a weapon. Nothing.

Disgusting and disposable and deplorable. He didn't even _deserve_ death. He didn't _deserve_ anything. But a being as wretched as him didn't deserve to exist either.

* * *

She was so distant from him. She was so close to him in their physical reality, and yet Olivia was thousands of miles away. She didn't talk to him. She didn't look at him. She didn't want anything to do with him. And Nick couldn't blame her. He would do the same thing.

All he had left was the voice at the back of his head. The voice thrived in the suffocating orange gas. It craved it. It needed more of it. It lusted for it. It gained the strength that Nick lost. It gained the voice that Nick lost. It gained the power that Nick lost. It soon had everything.

'_She's keeping things from you. She doesn't trust you. She doesn't need you. She's stuck here with you. And she's looking for other ways out. She'll leave you behind. You're just dead weight. You're _worthless_. You're _hopeless_. She doesn't deserve to suffer for the likes of you. She doesn't deserve to be in a prison with your rotten stench polluting the place._

'_You're a lost cause, Little Nick. And you'll die. So very soon. They'll kill you. Even the Foundation has no need to keep you alive. You have nothing more to give. You HAD nothing to give in the first place. It was a __mistake __to even bring you here. You were only part of the package with Olivia. They were __mistaken__ to observe you first. They were __mistaken__ to consider you valuable. You have no value. You have no purpose. You're __**nothing.**_

'_But death would be an award for such a foul failure like you. You deserve harsher punishment. You deserve an eternity with me. You deserve an eternity of suffering for your sad little sins.'_

Normally Nick would have put up a fight. Normally Nick could resist the darkness and its voice. But it was suffocating and surrounding him, just like the gas. And in his eyes, the orange gas was grey, was black. And it flooded into his mouth and into his eyes and into every little orifice. He sucked it down so his lungs were black and his tongue was black and all of his insides were black and filth. He was filth. Everything was filth.

Why him? Why this? Why couldn't he have had… a normal life? Like the rest. Ordinary was better than this. Ordinary was a different kind of forgettable, an acceptable kind of forgettable. Like the Nick he saw in this universe. The little worker bee with his suit and tie, awaiting the grind. The grind sounded like paradise. Mediocrity and ignorance seemed like such sweet release. An ant caught up in its infinite colony seemed like sweet freedom, sweet bliss. But it was too late for him. Too late.

* * *

Nick was much too vulnerable now. She would tell him about SCP-682. She promised. She promised herself and if she didn't follow through… she deserved the vicious tactics the Foundation could concoct and enact against her.

But right now Nick needed support. He needed her. She wasn't great with such affection, even with Peter, and the last thing she wanted to do was play Dr. Phil in such a stressful environment, but he needed something. Or she would lose him. For good.

She couldn't move through the thickening gas – they drenched them with more and more everyday – but she could talk today. Olivia had enough strength for her voice and her voice alone. And she was fortunate for that because they BOTH needed this. They BOTH needed to keep their demons at bay. Olivia was wallowing and torturing herself in the darkest recesses of her mind, to different degrees and in different ways than Nick, but she still was inflicting torture on herself. She was still irrationally hard on herself. She judged herself to standards other humans did not. And those standards made her feel guilt and shame. And she hated herself to degrees other humans did not. And that self-hatred only bred more self-hatred for being so abnormal and freakish. Through this hellish experience, she learned how similar they really were. How fragile and vulnerable they BOTH were. How haunted and crazed they BOTH were. Perhaps they really **were** paired for a reason.

"Nick? Nick, can you hear me?" She sounded raspier than usual, but it didn't matter. She could speak.

"Y-yes." His voice was a harsh croak, but it was still a voice. "Olive?"

"Tell me about… our past. The good moments, not the bad. I want to remember… how I was like when I was little. I want to remember… our original bond."

The orange fog seemed to get thinner. And the distance between them seemed closer. It was easier to move now. And she felt… better. So much better as Nick, now animated and so very much alive, gushed:

"Golden hair. I've always remembered your golden hair. The golden girl. _Olive_." Nick was even laughing now as he remembered. "You had golden energy and a golden smile. Everything about you was just… _golden_. I'd draw pictures for you, when we got some alone time for ourselves. Golden-yellow birds. You loved them and I loved drawing them." Nick chuckled some more, "You flew the highest out of all of us. I couldn't get off the ground most days, but you could soar to the stars."

It even brought a smile to Olivia's face. But even when she strained to remember such pictures, they did not come. Nothing came. None of the images Nick described would come. And he went on for what felt like hours, detailing certain meals Olivia had preferred and crayons she had gravitated toward. He paid attention to everything, because she was that important. It was amazing how much he was able to remember. And how much she was able to forget. Nick remembered certain sweaters and shoes she had worn. Nick remembered how sour the lemonade they gave them had been [and it was probably laced with some chemical array for some unknown effect.] He remembered the equipment for tests and for play. He remembered it all.

And it actually made him happy. It brought him such joy to relive the moments with Olivia. And it gave her a little joy to hear him like that.

But she knew it wouldn't last. Nick was happy, but it was only temporary. The distraction was only a distraction; it wasn't permanent. Even though she wanted to cling to the words he said, they did not stick. She fixated too much on the reality of it all.

This kind of existence wasn't enough to survive. The two of them were at their limits, barely able to survive. Faintly. And they were slipping, slipping into the darkness of despair.

They needed to get out of there. As fast as possible. But how? How could they, when the orange fog arrested their movements and kept them trapped in their cage? And even if they got beyond their cage, what then? A second breach was not what the Foundation had in store. They wouldn't make any progress.

So what was the point? Why even fight at all?

* * *

**Personal Log of Dr. Carla Warren:**

We haven't made any progress. Dr. Kwon is furious. I've never seen him in such a state and I've known him for years. He hasn't reached any tipping point yet, but I don't want to see him unravel. Like how Hendricks unraveled.

I blame the fear – the fear is what's forcing us into a stalemate. Everyone's on pins and needles, tentative and apprehensive. We can't afford to make the slightest of errors – not now. Not after the incident with SCP-1428-2 and SCP-682.

We're running out of time. We've never been on an official schedule, but I know we're behind it. We need answers, but we only get more questions. And as a result, we only add to the containment procedures, not our awareness of the subject.

Dr. Montgomery is hesitant in the face of things. She's inexperienced and this probably wasn't the best project to start with. I fear for her. I hope she doesn't unravel. And I hope I don't unravel. Or die. There's been so much death. So many colleagues, so many of my friends, just…

I need to get back to work. We must make progress. We **must** make progress. I will grind myself into nothingness for progress. For Dr. Kwon.

* * *

"Walter, what the fuck are we DOING?!" Peter set his wrench down. And he ran his dirtied hands through his hair in exasperation. "This pace… it isn't sustainable. What are you hoping to achieve? Do you want to KILL us? Because I guarantee that you'll get those results before you get whatever the hell we're working on. I'm not going to grind myself into the floor just for the sake of grinding."

"Stop complaining; the pace simply isn't good enough, Peter," one of the Walters said. As of late, Peter couldn't even tell which was which; they had turned into the same person just hosted in two separate bodies. They fed off of each other. They craved that eager excitement creating and destroying gave – that power and necessity gave. And they were both prone to violent outbursts when things weren't going their way – which was often with this rag-tag team of Fringe crew members and random assistants. Walternate was better at controlling his temper, but they were still the same man. Under the suit and jelled hair, he was still the same man with the same ticks and the same interests. They both wanted perfection and nothing else. "We are behind. The pace is blistering yes, but we MUST make progress. For Olivia's sake. For the sake of the world." From these words, Peter guessed that it was his father, but he still couldn't be sure. _Walter _had invested more interest into his Olivia, but perhaps it was just to maintain a truce with Walter and with him. He was never sure when it came to his father – both his fathers.

"But Peter's right, Walter." Astrid's voice was hoarse and fainter than usual. She was always stationed at the second table around the four aides that _Walter_ had chosen to bring over. "We're all running on fumes. We can't do our best work like this. Why don't we take a break? Just for an hour or two?" She saw that the Walters were not buying it. "I promise that our productivity will sky-rocket." Neither of the Walters were budging. "_I promise, _Walter."

"Asterisk, I just can't… we just can't take that risk." Walter's face softened. "I don't want Olivia's well-being to suffer just because we can't stand not to get any sleep."

"But Walter we haven't slept in **days**." And the days certainly took its toll on Astrid. She had always been skinny, ever since Peter had first started working with her, but now… Peter would consider her frail. Her hair that was usually full of life and excitement started to droop – just like the rest of her. Everything sagged, everything fell. The pace was grinding her into the ground, into nothingness. She wouldn't be able to last much like this. "And I _know_ this is for Olivia – believe me, I do – but I just… we just… we can't go on like this. We need a break."

Walter knew. And Walter didn't want to see Astrid suffer so. He didn't want anyone to suffer, especially on his watch. He turned to his alternate counterpart and hoped that he felt the same tug on his heartstrings, or what little of a heart the man had left. "Do you think we can spare two hours?"

The alternate counterpart pulled up a blue spreadsheet on the transparent glass surfaces surrounding – and separating – the two Walters from the rest of the group. His fingertips flipped through a series of graphics; his face grimaced and snarled until he got to the needed slide. "I believe we can. **If we must**."

"Then that's settled then." Peter set everything he had been working on aside and moved to the break room. "We must."

* * *

The last time he had been in this side room, with its grey walls and windows, was when _Olivia_ had come to visit them with doughnuts. He hadn't seen her since, just like this room. Her absence didn't necessarily worry him, but the subject of their previous conversation had. She had been so… unlike herself. So shaken. So unsure. He hoped that she was in a better state of mind.

And he hoped to reach a better state of mind with a nice cup of coffee. Again he was beyond grateful that _Secretary Bishop _was privileged enough to have such a rare commodity over in this universe. Smuggling coffee to and from the universes had been deemed illegal [and any other contraband] ever since the bridge had opened. And Peter was grateful that he didn't have to break any more rules than necessary.

As Peter was waiting for his black brew to come to just the right temperature, the door opened. A very unkempt Lincoln Lee staggered into the room, with pale skin and darkened circles. But his face immediately lit up when he saw Peter hovering near the coffee machine. "You are a saint amongst men."

"I do my best." And Peter tried his best to send a smile Lincoln's way, but his face could barely move given his current exhausted state. "The Walters certainly have been working us to the bone. And speaking of work, what exactly are they having _you _do?"

Lincoln heaved himself onto one of the plush couches and groaned, as he body began to finally relax. "Basically I'm the runner. They're sending me around as a liaison for parts and bits of technology. And I report back to Agent Broyles with our status. And I report to other entities on this side for necessary paperwork for trading and acquiring things. And I report back to the Walters for whatever else they need. I don't get any sleep the same as you. But I'm just not hovering over tech trying to get things to work. I'd be little help to you that way." He closed his eyes and heaved a sigh of relief, "But this… this just feels like heaven."

"Heaven, huh? Where all the good dead souls go?" That was a familiar voice. A familiar voice with red hair.

The door opened and Peter even smiled at the figure swaying into the room. "I was thinking about you, actually. How've you been?"

She stopped advancing forward, but she couldn't help but sway her hips gently from side to side. "Better, more or less." She did seem better. More energetic. And lively – a lot livelier than the zombies in the break room. "Thanks for that chat, by the way." _Olivia_ shook her white box gently. "I come bearing gifts. But this time I hit the two masterminds up before you two. And they took quite a bit of the bounty, so head's up."

"I'd imagine," Peter smirked. "What's in it?"

"It _used_ to be a smorgasbord of pastries, but again… half of its contents are with the Walters." She opened the box. Peter did see gaping holes, but it was still filled with a hearty amount of pastries. He spied flaky crusts full of various fillings, products with ample amounts of chocolate, circles of dough with layers of fruit and icing, and other such delights. He helped himself to a few [especially the ones with apple filling because he had been craving those as of late] and set them on the table next to the coffee machine on a lavender napkin.

Lincoln finally opened his eyes for this one. He perked up and leaned up to take from _Olivia_'s goods. He expected her hair to be cascading all around her, possibly getting in the way of the food and of her face and all, but it was plied back into a surprising bun. Even her bangs had been pushed back into submission, smoothed out and clamped under a black clip. Not a hair was out of place. Everything was precise in a way that was intricate, even if her hair and her minimal make-up were very simple in nature. And to top everything off, she was in a rather commanding suit with a crisp ironed white shirt and jet black pants. He looked much more like his – or his universe's – Olivia, save for the bun and its color. And he rather liked the bun. He liked seeing her face. Since it was a nice face. Not that he didn't like her hair or anything. He liked that, too, but this was a nice change.

He was blushing. He hoped she didn't see that. He hoped he wasn't staring too much. He hoped he wasn't noticing too much about her outfit or her face. He hoped that she wasn't actually a Cortexichild like their Olivia and could actually read his thoughts just as he was thinking them. He was flushing and he swore it was apparent, so he took a bite out of his buttery croissant, swallowed, and forced a smile – forced himself to take control of this situation and play it cool. "What's the occasion? You're not one to dress like this every day." He hoped to every universe that it would work. "That's more of our Olivia's thing."

_Olivia_ rolled her eyes. "I was forced to. I was in one of those meetings that I couldn't escape. We were discussing protocol and measures and figures – the last place I want to be with all these out of place bureaucrats that are the furthest away from matters that _really _matter. They talk their game and implement their changes, but nothing happens. They don't know one thing about the real world and they don't even care." She snarled at the wall, as if the men were actually in the room with her. "They'll never see a family in amber; they only read about it. They fuck around with their numbers and figures, but they won't even look to see the Fringe cases right in front of them." _Olivia_ shook her head and threw her hands up, "I can't… I… I even had to wear **these**." She looked down to the black heels on her feet in mild disgust, looking like she was going to fling them at the windows at any second. "I had to borrow them from another agent and they're too small. And they're completely _hideous_, to make matters worse. I'd much rather be wearing my boots. Or sandals. Anything but these."

Peter couldn't help but laugh. "See here I was pegging you for a girl that _liked_ her heels. I guess I was wrong. Oh and the coffee's ready, Lincoln."

"Pour me a cup," Lincoln grinned. "But really? Not a heels girl?"

"Not a heels girl." She closed the box and pursed her lips together, "You'll have to excuse me. I didn't come here to talk about my footwear habits."

"You have to leave so soon? But we were just getting comfortable." Peter sat down with his coffee and his pastries. "Surely you didn't **just **come here to deliver food and some sass." He would have winked but he figured that would be pushing it.

_Olivia_ put her hands on her hips, hoping to deliver a frown to Peter and his taunting smirk in her direction. But she couldn't. Not even to Lincoln and his puppy dog stare aimed at her. She just couldn't. She was getting soft with these individuals.

She had to leave before she got too soft. "Just… good luck. I don't know what you're doing and it's probably best that I don't know a lot about the device, but good luck." And with that she left the room. In a hurry. In her heels.

"Some kind of woman," Peter laughed and took a deep sip of coffee.

"Yeah." Lincoln was still blushing, despite himself. And hopefully Peter wouldn't notice either.

* * *

**Personal Log of Dr. Carla Warren:**

I don't know what we're doing wrong. It's been days and nothing has happened. Absolutely nothing.

We go without sleep and it doesn't seem to help us, but Dr. Kwon doesn't notice. He's too blinded by his ambition. The only thing he cares about is himself. And what he wants. And how he's going to get into the Overseer class. Everything and everyone is secondary.

I wish I had realized this sooner. Even **I'm** expendable… just like everyone else.

But even if I'm expendable… I want to do my job. I want progress just the same. I want everything dealing with SCP-1428 to be under control. I want life to go back to how it used to be. Or relatively back to how it used to be since it's too late now. It's too late for a lot of things.

* * *

"I'd like to hope that we're almost done?" Peter asked, looking up at the structure before him.

It was taller than he thought it was going to be. Certainly sleeker than he initially thought. And surprisingly slender, even with those black and white panels. A lot of work went into the technology staring back down at him. A lot of sacrifice and dedication.

_Walter_ was fiddling with his screens and his fingers. "I think that-"

There was a rippling that seemed to come from _Walter's_ screens. But it wasn't his screens that were distorting the space in front of them; it was something else. There was only one thing – one person – capable of causing such a phenomena.

And that figure walked out of the rippling and distorting space. And he took off his hat and stared at the device before him, before Peter and the rest of the workers involved in its construction, tipping his head to the side just so. "Good. You are nearly finished."


	17. The Master Key

**SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"**

**Chapter 17: The Master Key**

* * *

**Disclaimers:** When I began writing Cortexichildren, SCP-1428 was vacant. It is no longer vacant, but I have no intentions of publishing this on the wiki. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.

Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. Each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. The SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.

Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: _Bob_. Over Somewhere Else: **Bob**.

**Author's Notes:** The wait is over. Now that finals are over & hectic life has become least slightly _less_ hectic… we can continue with our story. Things are coming together now.

* * *

**O5 Log 01428-CIP85631215-O2-1:**

Early on I had my suspicions about SCP-1428-2. I wouldn't have been surprised if the subject had worked for another agency dealing with scientific phenomena or with an elite military task force. And based on these suspicions, I issued for an investigation some time ago. I have just now received those results. And before I wrote this log I shared my findings with the rest of the O5. Its contents received a mixed reception to say the least. But it seems the information SCP-682 shared to the Foundation and to SCP-1428-2 is correct – the existence of parallel worlds is certain.

A background check on the subject discovered the Olivia Dunham of the universe we inhabit. She works for the FBI and has been stationed abroad for some time. She is in constant contact with her superiors and to the best of our knowledge was NOT treated with Cortexiphan – because the facilities did not exist in this universe. The Jacksonville trials never existed, the people supposedly involved have never met, and the substance was never created between either party prior to **Olivia Dunham's** birth or since. Again, I can vouch with certainty.

We have a questioning session scheduled for SCP-1428-2 about our current concerns. Or at least _my _current concerns with multiple universes and the existence of doppelgangers traveling between them. And I seem to be the only one **excited** about this session.

When SCP-1428-2 was collected, I expected nothing. Sure the circumstances had been odd, but every single entity we harbor comes in because of "odd" circumstances. But what has transpired… what has developed in and beyond this Foundation… it's why I joined the Foundation in the first place. It's why I live.

* * *

**Interview 1428-2-G**

**Interviewed:** SCP-1428-2

**Interviewers:** Dr. S███ , O5-2

_SCP-1428-2 was brought in for further questioning following the [DATA REDACTED] incident involving itself and SCP-682. Questions of the [DATA REDACTED] nature are to be asked after the exchange between the two subjects over [DATA EXPUNGED]. _

_Transportation procedures were adhered to and in order to ensure safe cooperation of SCP-1428-2, Dr. Kwon supervised the administering of [DATA REDACTED] in small doses and an injection of [DATA REDACTED]. _

_In addition to the primary interviewer, Dr. Montgomery and Dr. Warren are present in room XQ-12. O5-2 has produced a series of questions for Dr. S███ to ask upon the interview. O5-2 has live access to the interview and will interject as necessary._

**Begin Log**

**Dr. S****███ :** Can you hear me, SCP-1428-2?

**SCP-1428-2 :** Yes.

**Dr. S███ :** Excellent. We shall now proceed.

**SCP-1428-2 :** …

**Dr. S███ : **Explain the extent of SCP-1428's influence.

**SCP-1428-2 :** I have not yet reached the full extent of my abilities.

**Dr. S███ :** Expand upon this. What do you mean?

**SCP-1428-2 :** I can set things on fire with my mind. I can move at speeds faster than the human eye. And yet that's only the minimum of what I'm capable of. I can travel between worlds. I am the strongest.

**Dr. S███ :** The strongest of what?

**SCP-1428-2 :** The others.

**Dr. S███ :** The other children? Like yourself?

**SCP-1428-2 :** Yes. Some are soldiers, activated like me and Nick. Some are average civilians, walking amongst the common population. Relatively harmless.

**Dr. S███ :** How many others?

**SCP-1428-2 :** [DATA EXPUNGED] from Jacksonville. There could be more.

**Dr. S███ :** That can't possibly be the truth.

**Dr. Warren :** Stick to the questions, doctor.

**Dr. S███ :** Excuse me. … Where are they? The rest of them?

**SCP-1428-2 :** Back where I came from.

**Dr. S███ :** And where is that?

**SCP-1428-2 :** My universe.

**Dr. S███ :** SCP-682 referred to this during your encounter. Do you believe that you are from the same universe?

**SCP-1428-2 :** I am not sure. I didn't see a glow around it. I don't know where it comes from.

**Dr. S███ :** A glow?

**SCP-1428-2 :** More like a glimmer. I see a glimmering veil around an object or person that doesn't belong – strangers from other universes that don't belong.

**Dr. S****███ :** Would I be correct in assuming that _we_ have glimmers?

**SCP-1428-2 :** Yes, but not always. It's an ability that comes and goes with my state of mind.

**Dr. S███ :** And what seems to activate it? What exactly is the state of mind?

**SCP-1428-2 :** Most commonly fear.

**Dr. S███ :** Are you afraid right now?

**SCP-1428-2 :** [after a long pause] Should I be?

**Dr. Warren :** What was the exact dosage administered to SCP-1428-2?

**Dr. Montgomery :** [DATA REDACTED]. Why?

**Dr. Warren :** The way the response was given troubles me. The subject should not be coming out of [DATA EXPUNGED]. It's much too early.

**Dr. S███ :** Should I stop?

**O5-2 :** No. I have a few questions of my own that I would like to ask. Dr. Warren, monitor SCP-1428-2's current state. I, too, share your suspicions. Let's instead err on the side of caution, shall we? Dr. Montgomery, ready the Class A sedatives; we may need them sooner than you think.

**Dr. S███ :** Am I free to leave, then?

**O5-2 :** You may.

_Primary interviewer Dr. S███ leaves the room. O5-2 proceeds._

**O5-2 :** I would like to further understand this glimmer, SCP-1428-2. From what I can gather, you see a glimmer when you see a "double" of another person. Your universe is your prime; that is what you deem normal. All those who come from other universes will have this abnormal glimmer, correct?

**SCP-1428-2 :** Yes.

**O5-2 :** So if you were to see the [DATA EXPUNGED] of this universe, you would see a glimmer?

**SCP-1428-2 :** [with great hesitation] Yes.

**O5-2 :** Because I know the location of this [DATA EXPUNGED].

**SCP-1428-2 :** [quickly becoming agitated] You will leave – her – alone. She is not a part of this. You have no right to bring her here. She wasn't treated with it. She's safe.

**O5-2 :** But how can you be so certain?

**SCP-1428-2 :** I'm _certain_ that you should stay the hell away from her. Do not interfere with her life. Do you hear me? [increasing volume] Do NOT interfere with her life.

**Dr. Warren :** Dr. Montgomery, are you capable of administering a dose? Or should I call in the guards?

**O5-2 : **But we must be certain. She shall be tested.

**Dr. Montgomery :** I'm not sure. I-

**SCP-1428-2 :** [bucking against its restraints] YOU WILL LEAVE HER ALONE. AND LEAVE THE [DATA EXPUNGED] OF THIS UNIVERSE ALONE. YOU WILL NOT TOUCH THEM. _**YOU WILL NOT HARM THEM. YOU WILL NOT EXPERIMENT ON THEM LIKE YOU HAVE WITH US. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? **_[DATA EXPUNGED]

**O5-2 :** [signaling for the guards to intervene] You're not in a position of power to make that decision.

**SCP-1428-2 :** _**IF YOU INVOLVE THEM IN ANY WAY, I SWEAR TO GOD YOU SONOFA-**_

_SCP-1428-2 is sedated by Agent S __█████ and Agent F__█████. SCP-1428-2 is escorted back to its containment cell._

**End Log**

* * *

**Transcribed Overseer Assembly 01428-2-XB17-Alpha:**

**O5-10 :** SCP-1428-2 has the tenacity to take down SCP-682.

**O5-4 :** SCP-1428-2 has the tenacity to KILL US ALL.

**O5-5 :** And we are nowhere near able to control it **or** its tenacity. Take what just transpired as evidence.

**O5-10 :** Then we simply need to resort to more drastic sedation methods and-

**O5-5 :** _**No.**_ Stop. I believed you to be intelligent, but as of late… your reasoning has dropped below levels that belong to Class-D personnel. Our-

**O5-10 :** You can't be serious. I can't believe that-

**O5-5 :** And now it is _my_ turn to say that _you interrupted __**me**__. _Our involvement with SCP-1428-2 has been atrocious. I warned the O5 that we could be triggering and provoking it to Keter hostility. And here it is, happening before my very eyes. But does anyone care? No. We are too blinded by our hatred of SCP-682 to make proper judgments.

**O5-2 :** I do agree that we are being blinded, but I would not place the blame solely on SCP-682.

**O5-5 :** I find it very fitting that you just said that. Since you're quite responsible for what happened today.

**O5-2 :** Me?

**O5-5 :** Yes, with your mocking of the subject's answers and your persistence to ask questions that enraged the subject. Yes,_ you_. You may have relative seniority, but that does not make you free of fault.

You went into this interview with ALL of the knowledge we have on SCP-1428-2. You KNOW that the subject is reluctant to expose information about itself. You KNOW that it is reluctant – or more accurately _unyielding_ – to aide our awareness. You KNOW that it has a protective streak – especially against those that the subject has emotionally bonded to. And yet despite this knowledge, you proceeded to press stubbornly – like Dr. Hendricks and **Dr. Winters**. You looked past EVERYTHING just to answer questions about the universe. Well the universe you care so strongly about will be in peril at the rate you're going. Yes I applaud your persistence to answer the truth, but I am concerned about the welfare of the world. And I know that many others amongst us will side with me. And yes, many will side with you.

I don't want you to view this as an attack; I just want us to be careful. We have made SO MANY mistakes with the SCP-1428 project; we have lost so many personnel. I'd rather err on the side of caution, like you said.

**O5-10 :** So when you're "criticizing" O5-2 you'll modify your tone to soften the blows, but when you address me, you're free to be as vicious as you want?

**O5-5 :** Why must you make EVERYTHING about you? Are you actually a child? Did we promote a 5 year-old over the other candidates that aren't pathetic and disgusting fu-

**O5-6 :** I would like to call order. If we're going to descend into mud-slinging and hair-pulling, I will adjourn this session. And I WILL resort to suspension. Have I made myself clear?

**O5-5 :** Yes.

**O5-10 :** … _Fine_.

**O5-6 :** Shall we continue?

**O5-7 :** I'm worried that after such events… SCP-1428-2 will attempt to breach. I believe that if we are to continue with additional questioning sessions, we should address SCP-1428-1.

**O5-8 :** Even in light of past events?

**O5-7 :** We will simply need to act as delicately as possible. No questionable questions. Make the subject as relaxed as possible. We can't have another crisis on our hands. We've had too many.

**O5-11 :** And perhaps focusing on SCP-1428-1 might be easier. If we want to continue with our attempts to destroy SCP-682 using the two, it will be easier to elicit an emotional reaction from SCP-682 using SCP-1428-1.

**O5-4 :** Assuming it has emotions. And assuming we can control SCP-682 in whatever state the host projects onto it. And assuming that we can control and trust SCP-1428-1 after its hostility toward the Foundation. But all the 'what if's make me uneasy. And doubtful.

**O5-6 :** Shall we adjourn?

**O5-3 :** Yes.

* * *

The rippling and distorting of space continued behind the Observer as he measured the instruments with his eyes, mentally calculating the necessary improvements and additions.

Peter was a bit exasperated by September's usage of "Almost done?! What's left to do? What more? And why haven't you come sooner?" Peter knew that he was supposed to be grateful to the paranormal being, but he just… couldn't. September was interfering against the wishes of his own kind and at his own risk and peril, Peter knew that. This was not something that was necessary for September's survival – and it certainly wasn't necessary from the mindset of the other Observers, Peter knew that. He knew all of this and yet… it wasn't good enough, just like Walter had said. They had been waiting WEEKS [or was it a month already?] for September to show. They had been struggling and stumbling in the dark and yet _**just now**_, just now when they thought they were done, he had to come in and burst their bubble? It was almost too much to bear. Why even come at all? And what else was there? Something about coordinates, but he forgot what else – it had been so long. What was September's purpose? Was there even a purpose anymore?

"I understand your anger, Peter Bishop, but know that your Olivia is safe."

"How safe?" Safe as in alive and well, or safe as in severely injured, but still not dead yet? Why couldn't the being in the suit just tell him exactly what he wanted? Why did he have to speak such vague statements in his echoing, emotionless voice?

"The Foundation has been tentative ever since their multiple mistakes with Olivia – and Nick. One mistake was introducing Olivia to beings more like her than the typical SCP-anomaly. One of those beings wanted to reach out to her, hoping to establish an alliance and make an escape."

"So did they escape? Do we just have to find them and transport them back?" Peter's breath rose in his throat and stayed there in anticipation. If that was it, that was fabulous news. What were they waiting for?

"No." Peter's heart sank. "Recently she has been secluded away from the entity. With Nick. Not many Foundation humans have seen them since." September blinked, the first time since he had arrived from the rippling. "They are afraid of what she is capable of. They have seen many of her abilities. They cannot control her. Because she cannot be controlled."

Peter gave a small sigh of relief. But again, this wasn't good enough. Peter would fully rejoice when Olivia was back in his universe, back in his arms, back in his life. Then and only then would he be at peace. Then and only then would he rest soundly. "So what else needs to be done?"

Peter hadn't noticed, but September had also brought with him a briefcase. And he had opened it. And in it lay technology that Peter had never seen before, things that he could not begin to comprehend. And it wasn't important for him to comprehend. But his curiosity couldn't help but peer further.

"To ensure the greatest amount of success, I will personally implement the frequency of the universe. And the coordinates to Olivia's location. It will not be long. And I have brought the necessary instruments. However," September blinked again. And turned to a certain individual in the room. "I will need assistance. From you."

Astrid pointed to herself, skeptical. She wildly looked around the room. Out of everyone here, her? The Observer had Peter, the boy genius, at his disposal. He had both Walter Bishops, experts of their field and fields that did not exist. He had the team of aides _Walter_ had handpicked, the top of academia on the Other Side. And yet he had chosen her? A woman that was, most days, Walter Bishop's nanny and cook? Someone that babysat him? Someone that brushed his hair and buttoned his coat? Someone that sometimes cracked through security codes and solved languages and deciphered unknown software, but not all the time? Someone that _sometimes_ had moments of brilliance, but only sometimes? Why take that chance with her? Was she truly as special as he thought?

"Yes. And your alternate self on this side. I will need her immediately." September finally turned to _Walter_, who nodded, pulled out his tablet, and swiped it a few times with his fingers.

"She will be over momentarily," _Walter_ stated, stiffly; he did not like that the Observer was taking control of his instruments, his project, his universe. But he bit his tongue. This was a being that outranked him in intelligence. And besides, he had no right to interfere with such a superior being enacting the essential.

September dismissed the rest with his hand and with, "I do not need the rest of you. You are free to leave."

"Now wait a second here." Of course September had foreseen Peter Bishop's qualms; it was in Peter's nature to resist. "You expect us just to LEAVE? For how long? And why? What do you have to do to the device? Is it something you can't show us – or don't _want_ to show us? I have waited far too long for Olivia to be-"

"I do not wish to upset you, Peter Bishop. I see that many of you are tired. This will give you the needed time to rest." September proceeded to take off his jacket – something Peter had never seen September do in his years of observing the Observer. "And I asked specifically for Agent Farnsworth and her alternate because they are the most qualified for what needs to be done. The rest of you are not needed. It is a task that does not require everyone to be here. But if you do not wish to leave, you may stay there." September motioned to the break room. "It will not take long."

Peter clenched his fists, wanting to shout something more, but his father put his hand on his right shoulder. And he felt the bitterness and anger and confusion and pain slide down. Back into the soles of his feet. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and found his energy slowly winding down. He felt control return to his body; he felt control return to his life.

"Okay," Peter relented. "Okay." He turned to face his father and the break room.

"Peter?" It was Astrid.

"Hm?" He peeked over his shoulder.

"Since I'll be working… could you brew me up some coffee?"

Peter smiled. "The whole pot?"

Astrid's face was tired. Her smile was strained and her eyes were drooping, but he could see a resurgence in her energy, too – a resurgence brought on by September and the project finally coming to an end. That meant progress, hope, Olivia. "The whole pot."

* * *

Astrid sipped her coffee, twirling her hair into tighter spirals, staring at September blankly. He hadn't moved. Peter had come with a fresh pot and set it right next to her [and most likely passed out on the couch afterward] and this Observer hadn't moved. She worked her way thru half the pot and he hadn't moved. She walked around the expanse looking for nothing in particular and he hadn't moved. She'd never understand these Observer-types. It was beyond her.

One of the main doors opened. _She _shuffled in, little red coils bouncing up and down. Her hands were at her sides, rigid. Her chin was pointed downward. Her shoulders were stiff and hunched. She continued to walk and look down, until she saw a familiar body. And then she looked up and saw a face – her face.

"Hello," she stated.

"Hi," Astrid smiled. "It's been a while. I haven't seen you since…" Since _her_ father had died. And Astrid let the sentence die.

"It has been quite some time." _Astrid_ probably would have calculated the days, down to the second, since their last meeting, but she turned her attention to the device. And to the mysterious bald man. "I recognize you from our surveillance footage. And from archives across history. I have documented you in 40 occurrences in our universe. 41, including now."

September finally moved. He turned around and peered at the two Astrids, turning his head to them. "I have called you both here for a purpose."

"Only _we_ can help you with the machine, right?" Astrid still had no idea what use she could provide for a near-celestial being. And she doubted she would be able to hold her own against her alternate self, a supercomputer personified, but she would try to remain open-minded. And positive.

September did not directly answer her question. "You," he gazed at Astrid intently, as if to point at her. "You will assist me with these instruments." September handed her what looked to be a wrench… but it wasn't. He had procured it from his own suitcase, from his own time, and this made her hesitant. The "wrench" was not made of metal, or anything earthly, but of… humming bits of technology connected together with a blue light. It vibrated in her hands at sporadic intervals. And it was quite large, a hefty instrument. She wanted to ask what it was and what it would be used for, but September was already addressing her counterpart. "You, assist me with the screens behind you."

_Astrid_ positioned herself behind Walternate's series of glass panels. And with a few swipes and touches, she was linked into whatever system he had installed. "I am ready."

"Please sync the technology before you with the device." September turned to Astrid. "Please open the panel closest to you."

_Astrid_'_'s_ fingers were a blur behind the elaborate console built into the glass. She flashed through graphic after graphic, color after color, flash after flash. She imputed data values, turning on the machine before them to a low hum. And Astrid worked with the blue wrench, prying open the largest black and white panel. The wrench seemed to be humming to the same tune of the device. And she felt a connection to this device and a connection to her alternate self in a way she had never felt before. The two of them were truly united in a task. It was beyond words, beyond comprehension. It was the impossible. In this moment, the truce was more than a truce – it was a working and healthy relationship. Two universes truly were connected, not just by a bridge, but by a cause greater than themselves. By individuals dedicated to that cause and to each other. By a physical machine representing not only the grand cause, but individual subjective truths. This machine was Walternate's transformation from hatred, to shallow reluctance, to acceptance – accepting reality and moving forward. It was Walter's promise to heal instead of damage; to bind instead of break; to maintain order free from selfishness and ego. It was a testament to Peter's love – a man who would do anything to get back his beloved; a man who would create new technologies to transcend universes, to match the essential that Olivia had already given. It was Lincoln's journey away from the meek man hiding behind the desk to a true field agent, ready to sacrifice for the greater good and the greater cause. It was _Olivia_ overcoming her previous biases of the Other, developing a fierce empathy to protect those she once opposed with clouded vehemence. But what did it mean to her, to Astrid? And to her double? She would have to find out.

The panel was open, revealing a key pad that Peter had just installed what seemed like hours ago – or was it days? During the construction process, Astrid had lost all sense of time. And now with September and her alternate self, time seemed to stand still just for her. There was nothing more important than this moment and the breaths she would take. Rescuing Olivia, guaranteeing the safety of all universes – everything rested on this moment. On these changes. On these hands. Her hands.

September's voice interrupted her thoughts. "The universe vibrates at 440 hertz."

"The key of A?" _Astrid_'_'s_ demeanor perked at the figure. "I never would have calculated such an outcome. Fascinating."

"Please input 440 hertz into your console and into the machine on my signal." September raised a finger.

The scene seemed so bizarre, almost heavenly. The artificial lights gleamed down on September's bald head and Astrid swore she could see an angelic glow reflecting off of it and radiating from him. From a man helping them deliver Olivia and Nick. From a man that could perform miracles, bend time to his will, do anything he desired. Or perhaps this was all nonsense. Perhaps it was all because of lack of sleep.

"Now." The two Astrids keyed in the figures. And the machine hummed to a different tune. And light that shone gold from some of the panels now shone a bright green. And then faded, just as the humming faded. Just as Astrid's delight at progress faded.

"Is something wrong?" She looked back to September, but found that his brow was not furrowed. He wore the same uniform face, free from anguish or satisfaction. "Was it supposed to do that?"

"Yes. We will now enter into the second phase." September bent down to pick up his own wrench, which was next to a small and slender box made out of metals she couldn't identify. "And this time, I will need you to step back, Agent Farnsworth. This I must do by myself." September walked to the opposite side of the device and proceeded to pry another slender panel open. "This design must bypass the previous triangle formation that others have used to open pathways between universes. We do not have the time to plant separate devices, nor create additional devices for this array. I am the only one who knows how to implement these changes, but I will need the cooperation of you both. _Agent Farnsworth _where she is and you, Agent Farnsworth, at my side."

The two Astrids nodded.

"I will perform to the best of my abilities. It will be my honor to accompany you, sir," _Astrid_ bowed her head and clacked her heels together in great anticipation. It was exciting to break new ground. To create things that the human mind had only dreamed of. It was beyond fascinating. It was beyond _wow_.

"Just tell me where I need to be and I'll be there." Astrid walked next to September and knelt alongside him. "Just tell me what I have to do and I'll do it."

If September were any other person, if September were any more human, he would have smiled. But he did admire her tenacity. And he did admire _her_ ability. He nodded his head in appreciation. "We have much to do."

* * *

Working with September and _Astrid_ was different. The hours were much longer with them, but time stood still for her, for all of them. She did not know how long they had been tampering with the device, but it did not matter. Nothing mattered. Only the device.

And unlike working with the Walters, with the entire team with a looming deadline and the thickest tension, she felt relaxed. Even though the work was much more delicate with September, handling their device with machinery she had never worked with before, she was calm. She was certain of her abilities and herself.

And she had energy. Reservoirs of energy she didn't know she had. Endless amounts. With the Walters and with Peter and the aides, she struggled to raise her arms through the shifts. But here, she was running back and forth. She was scurrying up ladders to get to the top of device and scurrying down. Her coiled hair was constantly bouncing and bobbing, never hanging stagnant – never drooping.

And she was smiling. This… it was almost enjoyable. And her counterpart seated a bit further away was enjoying it as much as her, probably more so. Astrid wished that September had arrived sooner. And she wished that she could work with him more often. Especially since they were almost done. She almost didn't want this to end.

* * *

Imputing the coordinates required the utmost precision. And the rest of Peter's brew of coffee, even if it had cooled _hours_ ago. It required the utmost cooperation between the two Astrids, one calculating across the many surfaces – the touch-panels and touch-tables surrounding the entire complex – and the other handling the entire device, prying open and keying in and closing panel after panel after panel.

But through it all, Astrid began to understand what the device meant to her. Why it was so important. Why she was so driven to see its completion. It represented her physical manifestation of belonging, of contributing to the group. This machine, this marvel that took so many to construct, was physical proof that she, Astrid Farnsworth, mattered. That she meant something, even alongside her more brilliant other half. And she wasn't just a necessary abstract component to achieve a task, or an emotionless machine to calculate figures. And she wasn't just a nanny or a maid, belittled and dismissed and exploited. She was respected. She was important. She was brilliant, just like the machine.

* * *

September hadn't announced it, but she could feel it. Finally… after so long… they were done.

* * *

Peter awoke from his nap. He was surprised to see the once vacant couch in front of him now occupied by two persons. Two persons who looked utterly exhausted, but utterly satisfied. And _Astrid's _red coils were mixed up in her counterpart's hair as they continued to sleep side-by-side, heads curled together. Smiles on their faces.

Peter smiled. This could only mean one thing.

He exited out of the break room to see The Observer putting his coat back on, adjusting the sleeves and smoothing out the wrinkles that had formed. His back was turned to Peter, but he knew that it was him. "Good. I must give you one final component to the device." September gave Peter the same slender box that he had stowed in his briefcase.

Peter turned it over in his hands, a bewildered grin dancing across his face. "What is it?"

"One might call it… the Master Key."

* * *

**O5 Log 01428-00001-69392-O2-1:**

SCP-1428-2 IS the key to SCP-001. SCP-1428-2 is the key to everything.

Yet I am alone in my understanding. My colleagues do not recognize this. It is not just their loss, but a loss for the Foundation and a loss for the world. My colleagues undervalue SCP-1428-2. They see her potential, but only in the narrowest of senses. They do not realize her true importance in this world – in every world. She is the Overwoman. She is the ultimate. She is the essential. She is The Way.

I must understand and protect SCP-1428-2. In that order. At all costs.


	18. Not Your Kind of People

**SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"**

**Chapter 18: Not Your Kind of People**

* * *

**Disclaimers:** When I began writing Cortexichildren, SCP-1428 was vacant. It is no longer vacant, but I have no intentions of publishing this on the wiki. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.

Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. Each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. The SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.

Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: _Bob_. Over Somewhere Else: **Bob**.

**Author's Notes:** We're winding down to the home stretch. & that's exciting. But… Weapon!Olivia really excites me. I'm pushing Olivia to her limits in this chapter &… Olivia's not quite herself. & yet she is COMPLETELY herself. Olivia was willing to use Peter as a means to defeat an enemy [which was pretty painful on Peter's end]… & throughout the series she has been willing to do a LOT for those she loves – especially to defeat enemies. So take this mindset & place it in a super stressful containment facility with other things that want to kill you & humans you can't trust who threaten you & others on a daily basis – what do you THINK is going to happen, hmmm?

I was inspired by the newest Metal Gear Solid trailer song for the title [because when I first came up with an outline, the song had **just** came out… yes it was THAT long ago.] Like the song is perfect. & the song will actually be used thruout. Like not in a super corny way [I hope], but I liked how some lyrics marked off sections of the chapter. The song fit so well it started to scare me. If you haven't heard the song you should check it out. It's by Garbage.

ALSO SHOUTOUT TO ALL THE PEOPLE WHO'VE BEEN FAVORITING / KUDOING. THANK YOU SO MUCH. AS A REWARD, HERE'S A SUPER LONG ASS CHAPTER. IS YOUR BODY READY?!

* * *

_**We are not your kind of people**_

_**Don't want to be like you**_

_**Ever in our lives**_

_**We are not your kind of people**_

_**We fight when you start talking**_

_**There's nothing but white noise**_

_Cortexichildren_

**Item #:** SCP-1428

**Object Class:** Euclid

**Description:** SCP-1428 is an unknown chemical substance called Cortexiphan, manufactured in [DATA EXPUNGED] with ingredients that may or may not be [DATA REDACTED]. Although Dr. Kwon's research into the ingredients of SCP-1428 has yielded [DATA EXPUNGED], with the current information from Interview 1428-2-G, these insights may be meaningless.

SCP-1428 was given to SCP-1428-1 and SCP-1428-2 as children [exact ages unknown] along with ██ other children during the drug trials [DATA REDACTED]. The administering and activation of SCP-1428 spawned the abilities SCP-1428-1 and SCP-1428-2 now possess. However the way of administration, amount needed to trigger the onset of such abilities, and the specifics of the activation process are unknown.

…

SCP-1428-2 is a white female of average height with blonde hair and hazel eyes. It refers to itself as "Olivia." SCP-1428-2 is the stronger of the two humanoid hosts. Prior to its containment breach, SCP-1428-2's known abilities were: abnormal acute hearing; the power to manipulate certain metals; and the ability to see different outcomes and potential futures. SCP-1428-2 has displayed pyrokinesis, telekinesis, electricity manipulation, and enhanced speed. From Interview 1428-2-G, the Foundation has learned that SCP-1428-2 can see disturbances of [DATA REDACTED]. SCP-1428-2 sees these disturbances as a "glimmer" or "glimmering."

After its encounter with SCP-682, SCP-682 deduced that SCP-1428-2 [and by extension, SCP-1428 and SCP-1428-1] is [DATA REDACTED]. However, immediately after this discovery, SCP-682 attempted to strike an alliance with SCP-1428-2 in hopes of escape. Task Force intervention was necessary.

SCP-1428-2 expresses that it lacks adequate control of its abilities, but its incident with SCP-173 makes the Foundation believe otherwise. However, while fear does trigger the onset of the subject's abilities, it does not guarantee the control of such abilities. So far SCP-1428-2 has been responsible for ██ Foundation deaths. Yet in spite of this statistic, SCP-1428-2 repeatedly expresses concern for the welfare of innocent people. During the event that led to its containment, SCP-1428-2 was seen trying to calm SCP-1428-1 down from its suicidal state. However, SCP-1428-2 failed, resulting in the deaths of those in the midst of an empathic event. During questioning sessions, SCP-1428-2 is always conscious of threats to innocent life. Prior to Interview-1428-2-G, the Foundation doubted whether this awareness was sincere and believed SCP-1428-2 was putting on a façade with aims of gaining the Foundation's trust. In light of Interview-2-G, the ferocity SCP-1428-2 showcases for the welfare of SCP-1428-1 is not limited to SCP-1428-1 and other potential Cortexichildren. When the lives of innocents are threatened in any way, SCP-1428-2 becomes easily combative and violent to an unparalleled degree. These reactions point to O5-2's hypothesis that SCP-1428-2 experiences heighted empathy in direct contrast to SCP-1428-1, but it still does not provide a firm foundation. Also, doctors and O5 staff alike do not agree on the origin of SCP-1428-2's empathy.

: Because of their physical and emotional proximity, did SCP-1428-2 adapt to SCP-1428-1's reverse-empathy by developing heightened empathy and consciousness? Was it a reaction that was forced by [DATA REDACTED] to create a humanoid fail-safe capable of balancing SCP-1428-1's reverse-empathy? Or did SCP-1428-2's empathy preexist, causing the two to be paired in the first place?

**Note-03:** In light of Interview-1428-2-G, SCP-1428-2's hostility level when faced with Foundation employees is no laughing matter. Proceed with extreme caution. And healthy amounts of sedatives.

**[[THE INFORMATION BELOW IS FOR PERSONNEL WITH LEVEL 4 CLEARANCE AND ABOVE ONLY]]**

…

**Addendum-08: **Only the O5 [and a privileged few doctors working in close contact] know the truth of SCP-682 and SCP-1428-2's encounter and the finer nuances of Interview-1428-2-G. The O5 do not know how to proceed with adding such sensitive information to SCP-1428's description. Introducing the concept of parallel worlds and doppelgangers to ignorant minds would be disastrous. And yet the discovery of teleporting between such worlds and distinguishing between alternate identities are paramount and VITAL to our overall understanding of SCP-1428. But there is no need to further complicate matters and the minds of standard personnel. The situation is already delicate.

* * *

_**You dropped by as I was sleeping**_

_**You came to see the whole commotion**_

_**And when I woke I started laughing**_

_**The joke's on me for not believing**_

They took Nick when he was asleep. He thought he was safe in the shrouds of orange gas. He thought he was hidden. But through the orange, even through sleep, he saw the shadows. And the shadows pounced upon him. And snatched him.

He screamed. He bucked against them and growled. He thrashed his legs about, at first trying to kick the guards, but later thrashed just to thrash; he struggled just to struggle, knowing that it was all in vain, but he had to do _something_ with his wretched body. He spat and he cried for Olivia, for his Olivia that was nowhere to be found amidst the black blurs and black panic. He shouted "Olive! Olive! Olive!" again and again, but to no avail. They took him from her when he thought he was safe.

What a foolish mistake to make. A pathetic mistake for a pathetic person. He should have known better in such a dreadful place; he should have known better than to give into hope – into security, even with his precious Olive there. Even Olive, with all her strength, could do little for him now. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. But pathetic was so often his normal. This was what he was; this was his nature.

He turned to his left. He didn't expect to see anything through the foggy drug-induced shapes, but he saw something, something that startled him more than being taken. Something that shook him right to his core - his reflection. In the helmet of the guard next to him. In that black visor, that black surface that looked like beautiful glass, he saw a haggard man, a broken and battered man with blue eyes wide with terror. A man with circles etched deep under his eyes, with lines carved into the sides of his face, with scabs and remnants of blood caked permanently onto his cheeks and chin. His hair had grown long, unrecognizably long in an unrecognizable amount of time. And the layers of blond-brown stuff flopped this way and that, ragged and frayed and thin and weak just like he was. Nick almost didn't recognize himself, not because of the circles or the scars, but because of the beard, or what was attempting to be a beard. In the helmet and through the drugs, it looked like a brown haze surrounding his neck. It sprung forth from him, but didn't go very far. It was just as pathetic as the rest of him was. It was merely an imposter.

Nick started laughing. Maybe the orange gas was still lingering in his nostrils or maybe they had finally succeeded in completely breaking him. Regardless of the reason or lack of a reason, he couldn't stop. The guards around him tensed and prepared to inject him with more orange, but he didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore. He looked too pathetic to matter; he _was_ too pathetic to matter. 'I finally feel how I look and look how I feel,' Nick thought.

He already knew where they were taking him. There was only one possibility, but it didn't even faze him. Even as they approached a familiar questioning room's door, he gave them nothing but cracked laughter. He had nothing else to give them but laughter. And he would give them nothing else… willingly.

Of course he knew they would use their chemical advantage. They always would. And like always, he would yield. There was no winning with them. Why even struggle? Why struggle against the inevitable? He was just one frayed little leaf trying to oppose an almighty waterfall. It was hopeless. It was fruitless. It was hilariously desolate. All he could do was laugh like the mad man that he was.

* * *

_**We are not your kind of people**_

_**You seem kind of phony**_

_**Everything's a lie**_

_**We are not your kind of people**_

_**Something in your makeup**_

_**Don't see eye to eye**_

**Interview 1428-1-E**

**Interviewed: **SCP-1428-1

**Interviewers:** Dr. M█████, O5-3, O5-6, O5-7

_The Foundation is treading cautiously in light of SCP-1428-2's outbursts after [DATA REDACTED]. Although the Foundation has prohibited the questioning and testing of SCP-1428-1, the O5 have decided to suspend this security procedure, since SCP-1428-2's mental state has been compromised._

_The Foundation hopes that SCP-1428-1 will be able to shed light on SCP-1428-2's statements during its recent questioning, specifically about [DATA EXPUNGED]._

_Transportation procedures were successfully executed. But considering SCP-1428-1's track record with previous doctors, multiple Task Force operatives and O5 personnel will be monitoring the proceedings. Furthermore, Dr. Kwon and Dr. Warren supervised the administering of [DATA REDACTED] and injections of [DATA REDACTED]. This mixture will allow SCP-1428-1 to be in a relaxed, calm state – hopefully reducing any possibilities of an empathic event._

_Dr. M█████ is the only individual that will be present in a spars meter room, reducing the destruction if SCP-1428-1's empathic nature should spread. The O5 have produced a series of questions for Dr. _ _M█████ to ask upon the interview. All three Overseer staff have live access to the interview and will interject or interrupt if necessary._

_Dr. M█████ has been instructed to be as gentle and sympathetic to SCP-1428-1 as possible. In no circumstance whatsoever is Dr. M█████ to enact the measures that Dr. Hendricks or __**Dr. Winters**__ forced upon SCP-1428-1. Dr. M█████ must secure SCP-1428-1's trust. _

**Begin Log**

_SCP-1428-1 appears to be in a drowsy, but relaxed, state._

**Dr. M█████ :** SCP-1428-1?

**SCP-1428-1 :** Huh?

**Dr. M█████ :** Are you ready to answer questions?

**SCP-1428-1 :** What kind of questions?

**Dr. M█████ :** Questions about… Olive.

_O5-3 considers objecting Dr. M█████'s choice to refer to SCP-1428-2 by its "bond" name, but abstains._

**SCP-1428-1 :** [perking up] Olive? Where is she?

**Dr. M█████ :** Olive's back in her room. She's very tired. She needs her rest.

**SCP-1428-1 :** … I see.

_SCP-1428-1 appears disappointed, but not enough to cause concern._

**Dr. M█████ :** Let's continue to talk about Olive. You like Olive, don't you?

**SCP-1428-1 :** Yes.

**Dr. M█████ :** And you say that Olive has always been the strongest out of you two. What about the others? Is she stronger than the others?

**SCP-1428-1 :** Always. Yes.

**Dr. M█████ :** Why is that so?

**SCP-1428-1 :** Because she can do anything. The rest of us… we couldn't do what she did. And we still can't do what she can. We could never.

**Dr. M█████ :** Do you remember how many others?

**SCP-1428-1 :** [DATA EXPUNGED].

**Dr. M█████ :** But none of them were as strong as her?

**SCP-1428-1 :** No. She was their favorite.

**Dr. M█████ :** Whose?

**SCP-1428-1 :** [DATA REDACTED]. And mine.

**Dr. M█████ :** [after a long pause] Tell me more about Olive's abilities.

**SCP-1428-1 :** They're limitless, it seems like. I… I'm jealous.

**Dr. M█████ :** But doesn't she give you strength? Why would you need to be jealous of her?

**SCP-1428-1 :** [increasingly agitated] Because I'm not strong enough on my own. I'm weak. I… I… she…

**O5-6 :** Dr. M█████, change the subject immediately. The entity's mental state is-

**Dr. M█████ :** Alright, Nick. It's alright. You're safe here. You don't need to be scared right now. You just need to answer my questions.

**SCP-1428-1 :** [whispering] I'm safe here?

**Dr. M█████ :** Yes. Yes, Nick. Of _course_ you're safe. And Olivia is safe, too. No one's going to hurt you here.

**SCP-1428-1 :** But before-

**Dr. M█████ :** Shh. Those men won't hurt you. Not anymore. And no one will hurt you like that ever again. I promise. They've been taken care of. They can't hurt you ever again.

**SCP-1428-1 :** O-okay.

**Dr. M█████ :** Do you feel better?

**SCP-1428-1 :** I… I think so.

**Dr. M█████ :** Can we continue to talk about Olive? Would that help you feel better?

**SCP-1428-1 :** Yes.

**Dr. M█████ : **You're strong, but doesn't Olive make you stronger? Doesn't she amplify your abilities and the abilities of the others?

**SCP-1428-1 :** [calming down] She amplifies some, but not me – not mine. She… she keeps me in control. She makes the voices stop. She makes the darkness go away. She keeps me from slipping. And… I think that's… that's more important.

**Dr. M█████ :** If we asked you to do something, and we brought SCP – _Olive_ along, would you do it?

**SCP-1428-1 :** As long as she's there.

**Dr. M█████ :** Even if the task seems impossible?

**SCP-1428-1 :** Nothing's impossible with Olive. Olive herself… she's impossible. Impossibly strong. Impossibly compassionate. I'd… I'd do anything for her. And we've already crossed over… and I thought **that** was impossible.

**Dr. M█████ :** What do you mean by 'crossed over?'

**SCP-1428-1 :** We're not from here. It's different and we're different. We met and then all of a sudden… we were here. [mumbling] _And we can't get back_.

**Dr. M█████ :** What was that?

**O5-3 :** I move to stop the interview. I believe we have what we need. Good work, Dr. M█████.

**End log**

* * *

**Transcribed Overseer Assembly 01428-2-XB18-Alpha:**

**O5-8 :** We can't hold it off any longer. The decision must be now and final.

**O5-2 :** I still feel that we're rushing into things. And I still feel that we have too much here to lose. Can't we gather more information on the two subjects first? In the scenario that they both should perish… we may **never** have the chance to study these phenomena again. That would be such a loss to the Foundation.

**O5-10 :** Yes, and yet… with what just happened with SCP-1428-1… we may never get this cooperation again. The time is now. I realize how important the Cortexiphan project is and yet… if we can neutralize SCP-682… that would be a _huge_ achievement for the Foundation.

…

**O5-6 :** All those in favor of Procedure 329-Laedo?

* * *

_**It doesn't take much**_

_**For someone to shut you down**_

_**When you build a shell**_

_**Build an army in your mind**_

_**You can't sit still**_

_**And you don't like hanging round the crowd**_

_**They don't understand**_

What was happening? Olivia wasn't in her cell. And she was moving.

This scene had played out too many times before. She felt like she knew the ending better than the Foundation did. It was all the same. They paraded her around the place in a drugged state and dropped her off in front of some cell. Then they expected her to best a SCP in some battle, which ultimately backfired. And then they paraded her back and had to deal with the consequences of their failure. It was almost comical initiating the same events yet waiting for a different outcome. It was madness.

But this time Nick was right beside her. And the two of them were being dragged through the blurs to the unknown. What would they see this time? An all-powerful blob? A supercomputer? Animals that weren't really animals? Other humans that weren't really humans with other abilities? Or would they see that yellow blob again, the one that moved faster than she could blink?

Or were they being taken to that huge monster of a thing? The one in the acid? The one with the skull? Olivia's heart stopped and her feet dragged on the floor. 'No. Not that.' She came to a halt and had to be prodded with the gun of the guard behind her. 'No, no no no no.'

They were, weren't they?

* * *

_**We are not your kind of people**_

_**Speak a different language**_

_**We see through your lies**_

_**We are not your kind of people**_

_**Won't be cast as demons**_

_**Creatures you despise**_

They were now outside the containment chamber, just like before. Olivia swallowed, slowly coming out of the haze. Someone was talking, but she still couldn't hear them. Only static from a distant radio. And the thundering footsteps and sonic coughs of force members she couldn't see. And the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears, resonating so frantically she thought she would burst. Olivia took a deep breath, trying to flush all the unimportant sounds from her mind. She was falling apart, like that time in the apartment. She was falling apart, but that wasn't an option. She couldn't give into her fear. She took a deep breath and asked, "Repeat that, please?"

"_**SCP-1428-2: you are not to engage SCP-682 in any way. If you make any motion, if you try any means of communication, we will not hesitate. We **__will__** fire. You **__will__** be eliminated. Is this understood?"**_

Olivia swallowed again, her throat suddenly dry. "Yes." But she was thankful the voice wasn't **Walter's**. She didn't recognize it.

"_**SCP-1428-1: you are to approach SCP-682 when we give the signal. You are to make emotional contact with SCP-682. You are to form a bond with it. Is this understood?"**_

"I… I don't know what I'm dealing with, but I'll try." Nick was shaking. Nick could barely stand. Nick's breaths were coming in shallow pants.

"_**You will do more than 'try', SCP-1428-1. If you fail to do so, we will seek disciplinary action. Like before."**_

Nick shivered. And ushered forth a whimpering sound.

"I'm here with you, Nick." Olivia moved to hold his hand. And she squeezed it tight. "You're going to be okay. I'll be watching you the entire time."

"Have you… been with it before?" His blue eyes met hers, shining a fretful and pale blue that made her shoulders tense.

Olivia peeked back behind her. There were no guards; they were probably already inside. Still, she didn't trust her chances. She would settle for telepathy. 'Yes. I… I've actually been lying to you, Nick. They've taken me places… places I didn't think they would take you. I was foolish to believe that and foolish not to prepare you for them, and I'm sorry.'

'That's fine. I understand. Everything you do is to protect me. You were lying, but you're not like them, Olive. You're not a monster like those doctors.'

She certainly hoped he was right. 'But what we're facing truly _is_ a monster, Nick. But… it _is _like us. They want us to destroy it because it's so dangerous, but I think – I don't think we should. At least, not immediately. It told me, when I came into its area last time, that it was like me. That it's not from here. It offered to help me escape and the doctors panicked and the guards dragged me out.'

'Really? This might be our chance to escape then.' His blue eyes were darkening. They were excited now. They were much more like the eyes she was used to seeing. Better.

'Yes. But keep your guard up. It… it's not human. And… it's terrifying. I… I've never seen anything like it.'

"_**Please enter the containment chamber, SCP-1428-1, SCP-1428-2."**_

When she entered, it was just like before – a huge room with the rafters full of Task Force members, their guns aimed ready to kill. And the tank, the tank of the beast. It was still submerged in acid but… something had changed. Olivia didn't know how to describe it, but something had changed. The beast, its skin was a different color. And she couldn't help but feel… that SCP-682 had gotten stronger, so much stronger. She could see a lot more of its flesh, even inside the acid. And it seemed bigger, if that was possible. It all made her immensely uneasy. She slowed down her footsteps and took calculated, measured steps. As if one false move would bring about the destruction of the world.

Olivia placed her hand on her thigh, reaching for a gun that was not there. She only fingered dull white material. She swallowed and tried to steady her breathing, tried to keep it as measured as her footsteps. But she was afraid. Something was going to happen. Something was going to go horrendously wrong. She felt _something_ and that something was telling her to head for the door. It was telling her to run and never look back.

But when she looked back she stared at the multitudes of guns and visors pointed in her direction. That wasn't an option for her. She was trapped.

And Nick was feeling much of the same. "Olive, I'm scared. I don't want to be here. I want to get out of here. I want to leave." His voice was taking on a signature panicked tone, rising up and down. It was shaking and uncertain and meek. Underneath his haggard facial hair was a little boy that desperately wanted out. A little boy that never wanted this life for himself. A little boy with no control whatsoever.

And Olivia's heart ached for that little boy. Olivia bit her lip, willing her body not to shake, not to surrender. She needed to be strong for him. She needed to be strong for both of them now, more than any other moment. "Nick, we are going to be okay. Listen to me – we are going to be okay."

"I don't want to be here I'm afraid I'm so afraid Olive I can't breathe Olive I can't I'm going into the darkness I'm going into the darkness and I can't escape it's all around me oh my god I'm so afraid." Nick was hyperventilating. He was crying. He was shaking. He was about to collapse.

"_**Please administer a Class C sedative to SCP-1428-1."**_

The door opened.

"_Oh? You again? And with someone else?"_

Olivia's hair on the back of her neck stood on end. It was talking to her. And the huge reptilian head encased in acid turned its gaze to her. She remembered what the Foundation had told her, and yet… she felt like it demanded a response back.

She was about to upon her mouth, she was about to engage, but something jarred her mute and left her breathless. One of the doctors brushed past her on his way to Nick. And she shuddered at the contact. And at the harsh jab to the back of Nick's neck. And the cry that followed traveled up and down her spine, making her wince.

"_What is this?"_ The beast stirred in its acid again. And began to growl with growing menace. _"What IS this fuckery? You've sent in more of your precious resources to kill me?" _It laughed. _"The human struggle is hopeless." _Nick whimpered more at the sound of the beast. And Olivia still couldn't breathe. It continued to lash against the Foundation. Brutally._ "You've kept me in captivity and achieved nothing, you sacks of petty flesh." _The growls continued to pound out of its cell, out of the acid. It bubbled viciously as the creature spoke, striking the pane with its jaw and its words. _"You are mere asinine animals, the most repugnant of creatures. Your existence begs eradication and I __**crave**__ it."_

No. This could not be happening. Olivia called their bluff. This was madness itself. She was not like the Class-D personnel; she was a valuable scientific phenomenon. 'They wouldn't terminate me so easily, not unless they _**had**_ to.' Olivia's eyes narrowed. She looked the SCP right in its jaw. This Foundation and its little pet wouldn't scare her. She addressed this Foundation, even though her gaze still rested on the beast within. "Let. Us. Go. I won't go through with it. Get something or someone else to do your dirty work."

"_**What did you say?" **_

Olivia breathed in deeply and turned around to glare at the speaker, to glare through the speaker to the coward on the other side. "You heard me. I'm tired of all this. Every single bit of it. I'm tired of your experiments. I'm tired of your methods. I'm tired of your entire fucking Foundation. You're no better than the people who gave me this in the first place. You operate under the _illusion_ that you're doing what's best for the world. What happens in here is _**disgusting**_. What happens in here isn't necessary; it's **sick** – all under the _guise_ of necessary. You're not scientists; you're _**monsters**_. You're as much monsters as the things you contain. You're disgusting. You're-" Olivia was interrupted. Something was shot in her direction. It wasn't a bullet. And it wasn't gas. It was… pure electricity. And she didn't see it coming and she hadn't deflected it. Olivia screamed as the energy soared through her, surged through her, slashed through her. It reminded her of Hendricks and his machine. It reminded her of the fear she had experienced – Nick had experienced. The Foundation was proving exactly what she had said. And it was excruciating.

"No." Nick saw the electricity continue to flood into Olivia's system. And he couldn't do a thing. He was helpless to see her there, thrashing from the streams. Her knees buckled from under her and she fell to the floor. Convulsing. Violently. Eyes rolling and legs flailing. _"No."_ He was horrified. Horrified of the scene in front of him, of the pain Olivia was in, but also of himself. He was horrified how he could just stand there – watching her. He was horrified and disgusted at his own inaction.

No. Not again. This scene had repeated too many times before. It was **his** turn to protect Olivia. It was **his **turn to strike. He wasn't going to be little Nick Lane waiting for something, dependent and helpless. He wasn't going to be that Nick at all.

He turned to the beast before him and approached it. He saw the thing inside. It looked like the filth whispering to him from the shadows, cackling at him in the darkness. And it certainly spoke like the darker Nick, quick to maim with its words. Quick to describe others in terms of helplessness and hopelessness; quick to give into bloodlust and destruction. But he wasn't scared of it. Not in this moment. Maybe in five minutes he would be running for the exit, Olivia in his arms, but not now. Not in this moment. In this moment, he was calm. And the beast in front of him felt his pain. The beast in front of him continued to stir. And then began to violently thrash about, just like Olivia on the floor.

It was furious. It was disgusted. The acid couldn't contain it. The acid resembled more like water, sloshing about, utterly unable to suspend it there. It was nothing. And the metal and glass and any other substance Nick guessed made up the structure soon gave way. And the acid began to spill out. It burned anything it touched with a scorching sizzle that would have killed a human with the faintest of drops. Luckily it did not reach the two of them.

And the beast gave the loudest roar Nick had ever heard in his life. It crashed against his chest, making him stumble a few steps backward, shocked at such a shockwave. The firing upon Olivia stopped. And the beast looked at the two of them. And then at the Task Force above them. It started to climb out of the structure that had once contained it.

Nick ran to Olivia, ran as the roaring and growling continued. She was slow to get up, but she was moving under her own power and Nick was grateful for that. But the strength left him just as soon as it had come. His voice began to shake. "Olive, what do we do? It's worse now, isn't it? Oh god it's worse. I made everything worse and I'm so sorry."

"Nick, I need you to stay with me." Her voice was strained and harsh, but Olivia seemed to have recovered. It was probably the Cortexiphan working in overdrive, but the two of them didn't have time to fret over it. They were in the middle of a probable war zone. The Task Force members were either descending to their level or focusing their fire on the beast, crawling out of its prison to the ground they stood on. Where could they go? To the beast, blinded by rage? Should they take their chances with a thing that could kill them with one swoop of its paws or its arms [Olivia couldn't tell which]? She saw a cluster of bones mashing up from the container. And she saw its skin regenerating itself. With muscles fully developing underneath it. It was returning back to its normal state – a much more powerful state. Olivia felt helpless just standing there, but she just didn't know which to choose. Could they trust those mindless hoards, blinded by their visors and by orders? Those who would kill her without a blink of an eye? They certainly were not bound by scientific discovery. They didn't care if Cortexiphan and its secrets died with her. They lived to eliminate their targets, to eradicate their threats. And that's what they were to them – threats, not scientific anomalies. And yet, _they_ were human. Unlike the large head of a creature with gnashing teeth and ripping claws coming ever-closer to them.

"Olive, what do we do?" Nick was beside her. He was always beside her. He was loyal to her, especially in the mess of things.

"Nick." She honestly didn't know what to do. But he couldn't know that. He should never know her weaknesses, especially in a time like this. She was Olivia, his Olive, his protector and golden companion. She couldn't fail him at a time like this. "Nick, stay with me. Don't leave me. I won't leave you."

"I'll never leave you, Olive."

"I need you to stay calm. Because we ARE going to get out of this." If she said it to Nick, if she said it aloud, maybe they would. Maybe they could survive this mess. With shots and screams and growls raging on every side of them. They had survived so far, at times through will alone; they would survive again. And unlike the masses of men with their guns, falling from the rafters just from the roars of the creature, they had their abilities. They had Cortexiphan and they had each other. "I need you to concentrate on it, Nick. I need you to calm it down. I need you to be calm so **it** can be calm. Can you do that?"

"I'll try."

That wasn't good enough. His eyes were still pale, still shaking. She needed him to be stronger – like when he had fearlessly approached SCP-682 when she was down. "No. I need you to DO it, Nick. I'm going to distract it and the rest of the men. I need you to focus." She put her hand on his shoulder, hoping to spark something between them. "I believe in you. I believe that we're going to live. And I need you to believe in yourself and believe that we're going to get out of this. Can you do that?"

"Yes." He turned his eyes to the beast, its limbs touching down on the sizzling ground. "I'll do it, Olive."

She nodded. And ran right at it. There were probably orders from the Overseer for her to step down, to disengage. The voice was probably begging for her to stop; they had made a mistake and they wanted to reclaim her. Or maybe it was urging her on, understanding that she really was the only chance they had. But it didn't matter. She was doing this for Nick and for Nick alone. Fuck the rest of the men behind her. Fuck the rest of the employees and the other SCPs contained here. Fuck the rest of the people in this universe. Right now, she needed to protect Nick and Nick only. Nick was her world and Nick alone. And the beast in front of her was either with her or against her; it was either waiting to march alongside her to escape or blocking their desired path to freedom.

But the beast in question was so much larger than her. It was almost comical to compare the two in terms of scale. But she was not afraid of it, this thing with all of its teeth and its eyes. Menacing and glowing yellow eyes. Staring at her. Sizing her up. And was the end of its snout curling up in a smile?

"_Did you mean all the words you screamed? Or was it a show to prove something and persuade me?"_

It was Olivia's turn to snarl back at the… thing. "I meant every word."

"_Like I said before, you're different. You're not as disgusting as the rest of filth here."_

She took a few steps toward it, eyes locked onto the ones closest to her. She hoped that Nick was keeping the beast at bay, keeping those powerful jaws from snapping and tearing her in two. But she didn't have time to look back or mentally check in on him. She needed to keep her focus on the reptilian thing in front of her. With spikes beginning to protrude from certain areas of skin and mats of hair forming on its head.

"Did _you_ mean what you said? That we could assist each other?"

"_Isn't that what we're doing right now?" _It looked away from her and opened its mouth. It issued forth another roar, but instead of merely tossing the ten or so agents back, the force tore into their skin. It ripped flesh to shreds. It rendered them immobile and twitching on the floor. _"Buying time to escape?"_

Olivia clenched and unclenched her hands, "But when we escape, what then? You said I'm not _**as **_disgusting – but that's not good enough for me. How do I know I can **trust** you? And how do I know that we're from the same place?"

It chuckled at her and pawed the ground. Still calm, still cautious. _"The rest of your kind has never been given this privilege – that's for you to decide." _It bowed its head, waiting for her response.

And Olivia was going to make that decision. She was going to open her mouth. She was going to give the beast a chance. She was going to see where it took her – her and Nick. But then-

"_**Only you**__, not that waste of life behind you. Seeing that walking abortion _sickens_ me. With its blue eyes crying for help, crying for the release of death. I'll put it out of its misery." _SCP-682 rose up, ready to pounce at Nick, ready to kill him. Ready to slash Nick to pieces with its claws as large and sharp as swords. Five of them ready to carve him and the remaining agents into glorious carnage.

"No!" A wall of fire shot up between the two of them. It was much larger than any blast that had come from Olivia before. It was almost as tall as the beast before her, towering above her, ready to scorch her as well as the monster. It shocked the creature, not expecting such a maneuver from her. It circled back and paced, calculating its next move. Olivia used this time to look back at Nick. Nick was on his knees, screaming with his hands over his head. With an agent behind him. Multiple agents behind him.

Olivia snarled and incinerated them from existence.

"_We're not so different, you and I."_

She snapped her body back to look at the creature, still pacing behind the flames. "We're **very** different. I care about life and you don't."

"_I DO care about life – just not human life. And you're not so different from me. You'll care about the cowering creature behind you, but not the creatures screaming as they burst into flame. You've constructed your own hierarchy in your mind. Don't play innocent with me, girl; you're __**anything**__ but innocent."_

She didn't want to be insulted by this non-human thing. And she didn't want to acknowledge its analysis of her actions. Not yet. Instead she issued her own threat, "You cross that line of fire and I won't hold back."

"_Moments ago you were ready to leave. And now you want to be the hero? __**Cute**__."_

"You threatened my friend; I'm not being the hero. I've protected him from The Foundation and I'll protect him from you."

The beast started to step through the flickering red barricade. It sneered at her, _"So he's your mate? Something you irrationally cherish above all else?" _It laughed again, a croaked laughter full of condescension. _"Perhaps you __are__ the same as the rest."_

"No. He's more than that. He was forced into this mess and I promised I'd get him out of it. All of it." Her eyes narrowed at SCP-682, "If you try to hurt Nick again, I'll destroy you."

"_Oh? You and what power? You can blow up a few humans but you won't be able to damage me. Many have tried. The Foundation has exhausted every scientific experiment on me and I still exist. You're nothing. You'll end up just like him." _It flashed all of its teeth at her, laughing. _"Curled up on the floor. Crying. Whimpering. Waiting to die."_

But even though Nick was on the ground, even though Nick was doubled over in pain, she felt his presence. She still felt him right alongside her. He was still there, helping her focus. Helping her remain calm in the presence of this monster. He was still with her, even when his body couldn't.

He believed in her. He would always believe in her. And she believed in herself. She could hurt this beast if she wanted to – and she **wanted **to. She could ram it into the wall until it was screaming for mercy, just like Nick had screamed for mercy. Just like they both had. She wouldn't worry about any agents; she assumed most of them were dead. And she assumed that the few remaining wouldn't dare get in the way of her battle.

But the battle was going to be very one-sided. It was a strain, but she rammed SCP-682 into the side of the room. Repeatedly. Smashing its entire weight into the metal, enough to slice it open. Enough to break off those useless little spikes. Enough to send it into a screaming frenzy, trying to buck away from the surface, but failing. Trying to push away with its limbs, with its jaw, ANYTHING, but failing.

Pound after pound after pound. Blood spurted everywhere from the beast. From its mouth with missing teeth. From its abdomen, now sporting a gaping hole. From its back, skin ripped to shreds. Again and again and again. Right now, the beast WAS the entire Foundation. This beast was everything holding her back, keeping her captive. This beast with the source of the torture, of the madness. And she would kill it. She would kill this beast and all those responsible. She would make them fear her like she had feared them. Like Nick had feared them. They would be safe. They would never hurt them again.

"_You fucking bitch, I'm not your enemy. Let go of me, _cunt._" _It managed to let out a deep chuckle, blood still spewing forth from its injuries. _"If you're so set on escape, why linger with __**me**__? Why bother killing __**me**__? Go. Run. We've killed all of the agents here. What's stopping you?"_

The beast was right. The grounds were littered with the black uniformed bodies of Task Force members and their blood. And yet Olivia couldn't just leave. This beast still remained. And she was right to withhold her trust.

"You. You're stopping me." Olivia backed away slowly. And she slowly let the creature down. She was panting. She was exhausted. And she needed to get back to Nick.

"_I underestimated you, but your friend still has left much to be desired." _It was panting, too. With blood sloshing down onto the ground. It gave off the same sizzle as the acid had when it touched the surface. Olivia would have to steer clear of that.

"Then you're still in my way."

Olivia was about to launch another attack. But she heard footsteps. A multitude of footsteps. She turned behind her and saw more black helmets. She could've smiled at those black helmets.

* * *

_**We are extraordinary people**_

_**We are extraordinary people**_

_**We are extraordinary people**_

_**We are extraordinary people**_

Nick needed to be helped up, but they successfully marched out of there with a team of five. Olivia gave no such struggle; she was thankful to have been pulled from the mess before it escalated beyond even her control.

As they left the huge space, Olivia could hear the roars of the beast. She heard its denouncings of the Foundation, of the Task Forces, of her. It saved its most powerful roars, reaching her very core, for her. Goosebumps covered her, up and down. That creature was pure terror. She hadn't seen ANYTHING so terrifying in her life, even with her years in the Fringe Division. Even in movies. Even in her wildest and darkest dreams. It was something else. It truly was a being that came from another universe, somewhere else. And she had enraged it beyond belief by leaving with the Foundation forces. And by managing to injure it so brutally. Just one little girl, one Olive, against it.

She was happy to reach their cell. She was happy to receive a sedative, to calm her down, to tune the growling that she could still hear what seemed like miles away. She was happy to enter a deep sleep. She was happy she was still alive. With Nick still at her side.


	19. Operation Viridian

**SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"**

**Chapter 19: Operation Viridian**

* * *

**Disclaimers:** When I began writing Cortexichildren, SCP-1428 was vacant. It is no longer vacant, but I have no intentions of publishing this on the wiki. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.

Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. Each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. The SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.

Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: _Bob_. Over Somewhere Else: **Bob**.

**Author's Notes:** Welp to torture you this is going to be an Altverse chapter. Yep, no SCP aftermath for you. Yet. Oh & this is going to be a shorter chapter in comparison to the previous one. I didn't want to break up the SCP-682 meeting into two parts & leave you on a cliffhanger. That would be beyond rude. & choppy. & I'll never write chapters as long as that again. Or least not for a while.

Also if you want sneak peeks into my thought process & snippets of chapters before they come out [yet sometimes really removed from context & abstract], check out my scpfringe tag on my tealrallythong blog on tumblr. If you're already on, you can post stuff in the scpfringe tag & I'll see it.

Reminder to myself to read The Man Who Wasn't There canon hub on the Foundation site. Aka the source of where that one excerpt comes from. Actually any document-type language about "Nobody" belongs to the SCP Foundation. I did not write it. That was not me.

Also hint: September does not experience time in a linear fashion & Over Somewhere Else experiences time differently than the other two universes. Snooping around the Foundation happens before September worked on the device & certainly before the rest of this chapter, but for the other universe & those people in it…

* * *

**"Nobody" – **Little is currently known about the person, entity, or group known as "Nobody". First sighted in 1954, they have had numerous appearances since. There has only been one person seen at any given time, typically described as a male Caucasian dressed in a grey suit and a fedora. If asked his identity, he replies that he's "Nobody". However, it is not known if this is the work of a single person or multiple agents of a single, unknown agency. Their agenda is currently unknown, sometimes helping the Foundation, sometimes hindering it. Caution is recommended if any field agents encounter an operative identifying themselves as "Nobody".

* * *

The person known to the Foundation as "Nobody" is seen by them as a mystery, almost a force of nature. Something unpredictable that can swoop in and change an entire operation for no apparent cause. There is no rhyme or reason to why he does what he does.

Or maybe there is.

The Foundation states that they don't know whether Nobody is an individual or an organization and in a way, both are correct. Nobody is an individual with a _purpose_…

* * *

It was dark. It was narrow. During a supposed "breach" most entrances and exits would be sealed off, funneling them through a set series of automated doors. All paired with security cameras. But the maintenance tunnels were still the safest bet. It would suffice.

September phased out of the dark tunnels.

"_Did you see that?" "Stop right there!" "You! Freeze!"_

September fixed his hat and said, as he shifted out of their universe, "You saw nobody."

Yes, he had been spotted. But there was nothing they could do.

* * *

"There is much to talk about," September told them. Them being the two Walters, the two Astrids, Lincoln, Peter, _Olivia_, and Broyles. September stood by the device, the rest of them sat behind a table waiting for the "briefing" of sorts to begin.

"As I have said before, you will require armed teams. There is a strong internal military presence there. But I have programmed the necessary coordinates that will allow you to bypass the great number stationed outside of the complex." He walked forward and showed them blueprints – Peter wasn't sure if September had drawn them himself or if the Observer had procured them from The Foundation. "There is a series of maintenance tunnels running underneath most of the complex. It's a tightly enclosed space, but you will travel undetected until you arrive at a series of automated doors. There are cameras stationed outside of those doors – you will need another team to dispose of them." September handed the two Astrids sitting beside each other another map. "And there is another route to that area." September focused back on the main map, "Nick and Olivia are usually stationed in this cell," he pointed to the circled box. "But… they have been relocated before. I…" September hesitated, his gaze losing focus. "I wish I could do more. But this… this is all I can. I have already overstayed my welcome. The others grow suspicious. I must head back soon. Keep the map and the rest." September pulled out another package. "The contents of this will help you plan your next course of action." He turned to _Olivia_ and to Broyles, "Do you believe… that you can accomplish this task with your men?"

Broyles gave a quiet nod, confident. "We'll see what we can do."

"But before I go… Peter, I must address your device."

"What other device?" _Walter_'s nostrils flared. "What more is there?"

"I have designed a failsafe for Peter to hold." Peter took out the box and flashed it to everyone. "It is designed to balance the fluctuations that occur in that universe. And it will also keep the two universes in sync, connected, allowing for only a team of two to stay behind to make corrections to the device, if they should arise." September swallowed, uncharacteristically nervous. Peter had never seen the Observer so shaken. "This device also doubles as a Master Key. There will be no device stationed in the other universe, and yet persons will have to cross over. The key can create and destroy portals that link back to the main device at will. You will be on the run. You may not exit at the same place you entered." September placed on his fedora and shifted down to get his briefcase. "But I must be going. I have run out of time. I hope that…" He stood up and looked at Peter and then at Walter, tipping his head gradually and characteristically to the side. "I hope that you find your Olivia." And then September disappeared.

_Olivia_ rose up, smirking and looking at Broyles. "Let's get started then."

* * *

_Olivia_ wished she had that same enthusiasm and smug confidence now. She swallowed, or at least _tried_ to swallow, in order to quell her dry mouth and exhausted body. She and Broyles had spent **hours** preparing for this briefing. Long productive hours full of progress and understanding and agreement. Long draining hours full of exasperation and the throwing of papers, the stomping of feet, the screaming of individuals one inch away from each other wanting the same thing, but still experiencing a disconnect and the harshness that sometimes comes with it. And she had assumed that he would be by her side delivering it, despite the tension between the two of them. She had assumed that they would be a pair, the universes united in stating their plan. And yet, he had been called back for other business. And now she was alone. Even _Astrid_ and Lincoln were a linked pair, a link between universes, assessing the skills of candidates to select for the mission, and yet she was alone. They were huddled together, looking at the screens, filing through their database full of every stat you could imagine, but she was alone. Alone staring down at these piles of papers and shaking hands.

_Lincoln_ and _Charlie_ were not assigned to this mission. She was alone. Yes, there would be 35 additional agents from her universe, but she was alone. Yes, she had gotten to know Lincoln and Astrid and Peter and Walter, but she felt so very **alone**.

And responsible. In Broyles' absence, she was left in charge. And even though she had the trust of Broyles, the trust of the Secretary, even the trust of the Observer when he had looked her in the eye to plan the rescue mission, there was a pit in her stomach. Burning. Twisting. Turning. Because she would be responsible for **all** agents on the ground. And she was terrified.

At first she thought her fear was foolish. She had completed countless missions to perfection. She had led hundreds of different men into situations – some of which planned at the last moment, the last hour; some of which she had to improvise as she went along, already in field. She had dealt with temporal rifts and amber and scientific anomalies countless times. And yet… those were in _her_ universe. She knew what she was dealing with on some level, even if she didn't. Now she was heading into the unknown – heading into a universe she knew nothing about. She would be entirely responsible for the lives of all those agents and yet she could NOT guarantee their safety with certainty.

She was horrified. She had been in countless situations, but none like this. Going into a new universe, going into a military-esque foundation full of anomalies that _weren't_ theirs – the fear made her knees quake. There were so many unknowns, so many variables, whizzing through her head. It overwhelmed her. She wondered how _Astrid _felt calculating such things, calculating the outcomes. _Astrid_ did it for all their missions. She would calculate the projected loss of men, the percentage of success, the percentage of failure. _Astrid _**did **calculate success, but… it was a lower number than _Olivia_ expected. It was a punch in the gut to see success projected so low.

_Olivia_ wondered how her double felt when she had crossed over. Unable to get back. Trapped. Wandering the streets in vain for a way out. And then captured. If her double felt that she had been trapped before, now she was utterly trapped. And who knows what they were doing to her there. _Olivia_ didn't have the stomach to imagine. _Olivia_ knew what _her_ universe planned to do with Agent Dunham; _Olivia_ had been briefed on such matters. She knew the sides the Secretary did not show to the public. How motivated he was to unlock Agent Dunham's secrets, even if it meant killing her. And if this SCP Foundation was full of hundreds of men like the Secretary… _Olivia_ felt that her alternate universe counterpart was lucky enough to be alive.

And yet… Agent Dunham barely showed fear. In the car, driving either back from a case or to a case [_Olivia_ didn't know which], her double had stated without even batting an eyelash that she had killed her step-father. _Olivia_ was shocked and yet for her double, it was nothing. Even in the face of danger, it was nothing for her. Her poker face was absolute, her resolve unwavering. Her double was strong to survive in such a place and succeed in protecting another innocent person. For three months, she had survived. If Agent Dunham could enter into the unknown unafraid, so could – so_ would_ – she.

* * *

"Overwatch, there… there seems to have been a sighting outside Site 19."

"_**A sighting of WHAT, Agent?"**_

"_N-Nobody_, sir."

"… _**Are you certain?"**_

"Yes. The entity in question was spotted in matching attire – a suit and a fedora. And he –_ it_ – possessed powers we couldn't understand. It was able to walk through material objects and space. And as it slowly disappeared from sight, it addressed itself as Nobody. It said to us, 'You saw Nobody.'"

"_**What is your location?"**_

"Outside Gate D, sir. … Should we be on orange alert?"

"_**For the time being, yes. I will alert the others."**_

* * *

All of September's original explanations ran through her head. And all of his notes flashed before her eyes.

She could do this. She could do this.

They were in a much larger room now, away from the device and its space it was created in. The best 35 men and women were seated before her, as well as the familiar faces from the Other Side. Peter, Astrid, Walter, and Lincoln were seated at the front. A month or two ago, most of them [save Peter] would have glared at her with harsh eyes, but now their gazes were much softer. They trusted her. Or in Walter's case, experienced the closest thing to trust she would ever receive.

_Olivia_ swallowed. She straightened her favorite black jacket with her Fringe Division patches. And she fiddled with finger full of red hair before abruptly focusing her attention on the mass in front of her. Her eyes unwavering.

"You have been gathered here today for Operation Viridian." She touched the wall behind her and it sprung to life, showcasing graphics of the two targets they needed to acquire. "All of you are seasoned veterans when it comes to Fringe affairs. You have seen things that you could not explain and you did not question them. You did not lose control; you completed your assignment with the utmost focus. You are the best of the best." She turned to the wall behind her. "But despite possessing the needed clearance and experience, what I need to say… is hard to say. It's hard to wrap your mind around. And this is only the beginning." _Olivia_ pointed to the picture of her double. "This is Olivia Dunham – the Olivia Dunham of the other universe. She has been missing for…" Her voice faltered. _Olivia_ sighed and started again, "She has been missing for three months along with Nick Lane." She pointed to the other man briefly. "Olivia Dunham is affiliated with the FBI and has worked on many Fringe cases in her universe. She is familiar with Dr. Walter Bishop's research on the Other Side, highly classified and potentially valuable information." She blinked. "Nick Lane, however, is not an agent; he is an average citizen. And the two of them are being held by this organization." _Olivia_ turned to all of them and pointed to the logo September had drawn. "The SCP Foundation. In another universe." She saw the faces that were once so stoic and poised curl in confusion; she expected such. She once wore the same face when Peter and Walter had first informed her of this mess what seemed like ages ago. "The SCP Foundation is an organization likely sponsored by their government, much like the operation that we run. This Foundation deals with matters that the average population would not be able to understand – scientific phenomena of unknown origin. Instead of destroying these anomalies outright, they are captured and studied back in their facilities – where Agent Dunham and Nick Lane are being held against their will." With a slide of fingers against the wall, she arrived at the master map September had constructed. "Questions so far?"

Agent Aruna raised her hand, "How exactly were they taken into the other universe?"

_Olivia_ frowned. Agent Aruna had clearance and the mental capacity to know such information, but the rest did not. It was much too… delicate. "That information is classified."

"Meaning that you don't know?" Agent Aruna had given _Olivia_ an answer to a plot hole.

Which _Olivia_ took, reluctantly nodding while still maintaining eye contact with the agent. "Meaning we don't know," she admitted in faux defeat. "Our last records show that the two of them were outside Agent Dunham's apartment, at a local park. The two were taken in broad daylight and yet… the Foundation left no trace." She would tell Aruna the specifics later. Aruna could handle them. And Aruna would most likely be her second in command.

"Any other questions?" _Olivia_ panned the room of serious faces. "Good." _Olivia_ flicked onto the wall-screen the pictures that September had given them of the facility. "There are three classes of personnel you will encounter in this facility. First are the armed members of their army, or task forces." She enlarged a picture that highlighted the black outfitted squads. "They are heavily armed and stationed throughout the facility. If Dunham and Lane are to be moved, they would most likely escort them. And they are most likely stationed outside the cell Agent Dunham and Nick Lane are being contained in. Next are the Class-D personnel." She enlarged a picture of a man in an orange jumpsuit, haggard with a haunted stare. "These are the workers of the Foundation. They do not appear to be armed. We're uncertain if they are hostile. Avoid them." She brought in another photo and enlarged it on the individuals with white jackets and tablets. "And these are the doctors of the facility. We don't know how many there are, which have direct access to the two targets, or if they're also armed threats." _Olivia_ brought the screen back to the detailed map. "And now, Operation Viridian."

_Olivia_ walked away from the screen and looked again to the seated individuals before her. "Operation Viridian is a rescue mission with one objective – rescuing Agent Dunham and Nick Lane. We will be crossing over to their location through a device designed by Secretary Bishop and his aides and Dr. Walter Bishop and others from his universe. Many of them will be accompanying you on your mission." _Olivia_ noticed that Astrid's face had twitched when her name had not been given credit. _Olivia_ understood, but it was simpler this way. "You will be split into four teams: two away teams to search for the targets; a team to stay behind at the portal and rendezvous point; and another to patch in and disable the security cameras and other defense systems. You will now be split into your teams and briefed on your specific objectives. Agent Aruna, would you meet with me?"

As the rest of the agents receiving their stamped folders, a slender, tall, and dark-skinned woman approached _Olivia_. She was smiling. And her hair was coiled into an elegant bun behind her head. But her hair was also wrapped tight into secure submission; not a hair would move out of place. She wore a black windbreaker with the Fringe Division patch sewn on her right breast and similar cargo pants to _Olivia_. "It'll be just like old times." Her smile broke into a larger grin. "I haven't gone out into the field with you for a while now."

"Just like old times." _Olivia _took her friend and moved her so they were talking side-by-side, backs turned to the rest of the agents. "You're going to be the head of the Alpha Team."

Aruna pursed her lips and laughed, "Did you plan for the A-named girl to lead the Alpha team, or was it a coincidence? Oh, that's right." Her eyes narrowed, focusing on the map ahead of her, "There are no coincidences." She licked her lips and hushed her voice, "Tell me what _really_ happened, _Dunham_."

"Both Agent Dunham and Nick Lane have been treated with Cortexiphan – as children. When they met, the Cortexiphan in their systems allowed them to cross over to the other universe. We don't know why. They weren't under any stress, but… perhaps just being in contact with each other… made it happen." _Olivia_ leaned up and down on her feet, uncomfortable that she didn't know all the answers **still**, after three months. "The other universe experiences degradation, just like ours. Because of disturbances created in that universe, they were unable to come back under their own power. And then, the Foundation found them and captured them. And they've been running experiments."

"How do you know this information? We don't have any agents in other universes… do we?" Agent Aruna's eyes widened in fear.

"No. Or at least… I'm not aware that we do." _Olivia _fought back a shiver. "Do you know of the Observers? The weird bald men in the suits?"

"Yes, but barely."

"The Dr. Walter Bishop of the Other Side has a… shall we say _close _relationship with one of them. His name is September. He helped us created the device – hell, he did a lot of it himself. He told us where to go and what to expect." _Olivia_ motioned to the wall with her head, "He gave us all of that. He's done a lot for us. He's been giving us status updates on the two of them. And so far… they're alive. But that's all he'll tell us."

"She's being tested on, isn't she?" Aruna winced, her face paling. "Disgusting."

"They deal with science and experimentation. So…" _Olivia_ let the sentence wander. She was going to vomit if she thought about it anymore. "Here." She gave Aruna a grey folder with **OPERATION VIRIDIAN: ALPHA TEAM** stamped onto it in black. "You'll be meeting in room three, along with the Omega team."

Aruna rolled her eyes. "Now it HAS to be on purpose. Aruna-Alpha, Olivia-Omega? Who names these things?"

_Olivia_ swatted her friend's back. "No one asked for your take on the matter. Get to your assigned space, agent."

"No need to get so feisty," Aruna smirked. "I'll see you there, then."

* * *

Now only 24 individuals. In a much smaller room, but there were no tables, and all chairs were facing directly at _Olivia_. And all the chairs were occupied, save for one – Aruna's, who was standing beside her.

"You have been selected for the two away teams. Teams Alpha and Omega will be directly responsible for securing the two targets: Agent Olivia Dunham and civilian Nick Lane. I will be leading the Omega team." Like the larger conference room, the room behind them had a wall linked directly into their system. _Olivia_ touched the wall and laid out September's map before the agents. "As mentioned in your documents, we will enter the complex from the maintenance tunnels. However, we don't know the degree of detection we'll face as we're navigating through the tunnels. If this Foundation is anything like us, they'll have technology monitoring potential invaders coming in from other universes, monitoring the rifts created by such events. Or they might simply have motion sensor devices and other monitoring equipment planted into the tunnels – we don't know." _Olivia_ enlarged on the outlines that she and Broyles had planned. "We will be sticking to this green path, avoiding as many open areas and workers as possible. Ideally, we only want to target the armed task force members. But if any Class-D or doctor personnel exhibit aggression and attack, you have our permission to engage." _Olivia_ turned to Aruna, wondering if she had anything else to add, or if she wanted to continue with the explanation.

Aruna answered the agents with her characteristic laid back and calming smile. "If you didn't already know, I am Agent Aruna and I will be leading the Alpha team. Ideally, we want the Delta Team to disable any technology before we reach the stretch leading up to the targets, but in the event that that doesn't happen… we will need to be cautious. We don't know what kind of a system they use to move their task force around. We don't know where they're stationed. We don't know how many are stationed outside of their cell, or if there will be armed members inside the cell waiting for us. And here," Aruna brought a series of pictures and their position on September's map to the attention of the agents. "These are a series of gates – possibly with a flowing electric current – stationed all the way leading up to the target's location. If the Delta Team is unable to disable them, we will have to find another way around." Aruna moved those pictures to the side of the screen and brought her attention again to the faces in front of her. "Stay alert. We likely only have one shot." Aruna looked back to _Olivia._

_Olivia_ nodded. "Yes, this is a one-time only operation. We do not know how much this Foundation knows about other universes, but if we fail to rescue them, who knows what kind of measures they would take to keep us from entering their universe again. Or, in the worst case scenario, they find ways to cross over to **our** universe and disable our technology and further capitalize their operations **here**. We can't take any chances; we must succeed." _Olivia_ cleared her throat. "Once we have secured Nick Lane and Agent Dunham, we will continue along the green path to the rendezvous point on the map here – unless the Beta Team is unable to hold their position. If that is the case, we will standby as Agent Lee and Peter Bishop secure another location. Are there any questions?"

"No?" Aruna smirked. "Then you're dismissed."

As the agents trickled out of the room and as _Olivia _started to collect the few things she brought with her, Aruna exhaled deeply and asked, "We really DO have one shot at this, don't we?"

"The Broyles from the Other Side is particularly worried that their universe is militant – think David Robert Jones. If we give them any chance to retaliate, he thinks they _will_ take that chance. And from the looks of how massive their facility is… they have the means to do so." _Olivia_ shivered, "The more I think about it… the more I'm grateful I wasn't taken instead."

"Of course YOU weren't taken. You don't have Cortexiphan."

_Olivia_ gave Aruna an uneasy smile. "Yeah. Right."

* * *

A much smaller team deserved a much smaller room. There were seven agents seated around a long and circular table on one side, and Lincoln and Peter seated on the other. _Olivia_ chuckled when she saw the divide. She sat with the men from the Other Side, hoping the divide wasn't because of Over Here-Over There preconceived notions and tensions. But then again, she had been like those agents, too.

When she was settled in and comfortable, she began. "You seven have been selected for the Beta Team. You will be accompanied by Peter Bishop and the Lincoln Lee from the Other Side." _Olivia_ looked at the two of them and smiled. "They are with you because your objective is vital to ensuring all our survival – you must look after the portal created between the two universes. It's the entry point as well as the escape route."

Peter thought it would be easier if he stepped in and simplified all the science-speak that had drawled on for pages in their documents thanks to his father. "I'm Peter Bishop. We enter through the other universe in what could be considered a portal." Peter looked down as _Olivia_ accessed the graphics on the table. "There will be men manning the device back in this universe and I will be manning another device ensuring that we all stay safe."

"And does he get the device because he's the Secretary's boy?" This came from an agent with cropped blond hair and a scar on his jar.

"No, I get the device because I understand how it works," Peter grinned. "But thanks for playing."

_Olivia_ cleared her throat. "Yes. Alright. The portal will stay open once we all pass through it. Bishop will then close the portal and Agent Lee will lead you to the rendezvous point here." _ Olivia_ focused in on the blue path, still in the maintenance tunnels. "Bishop and Agent Lee will wait there with two men while the rest keep the tunnels clean for the remaining three teams to later come through." _Olivia_ leaned in, "However, in the event that the situation turns dire and the remaining teams do not have time to come to the marked rendezvous point, or if the tunnels are overrun with task force members and you are unable to hold your location, you will have to move." _Olivia_ pulled away from the blue marked areas. The entire length of the map was visible.

Peter picked up where she had left off, "In that case, we will have to be quick and mobile. **I** will worry about the calculations on the fly. You all will ensure that nothing happens to me. Or at least that nothing happens to the device." Peter pulled out the small thing and showed it to them, whisking it around in his right hand. "In the wrong hands, especially in the clutches of the Foundation, this could be catastrophic."

"We're putting all our hopes of escape on that _wee_ thing?" It was the same man again. "Wow. I wish I was on the Alpha team."

"Agent Parker, I would like you to refrain from your unnecessary commentary." _Olivia_ threw him an icy glare, "Is that understood? Or do I need to remove you from the operation entirely?"

"I understand, _Agent Dunham_. No you don't need to remove me, _Agent Dunham_."

"Are there any more questions directly concerning your objectives?" _Olivia_ panned the room.

Agent Parker raised his hand again.

_Olivia_ held back the sensation to roll her eyes. "_**Yes**_, Agent Parker?"

"What are the chances that the other teams don't make the rendezvous point, for whatever reason?" He scratched his chin and pointed to the rest of the blue marks. "Like you said, only in the worst case scenario will we be running around trying to find our scattered comrades. What did _Agent Farnsworth_ calculate?" He looked _Olivia_ square in the eyes.

She sighed. While Parker was a thorn in her side and a mouthful of expletives, he was good at his job. _Olivia_ brought up _Astrid's_ graphics noting multiple scenarios in order of their likelihood.

Parker squinted his eyes, not believing the figures before him, and found himself at a loss for words. After a few minutes turning them over in his head, he finally murmured, "That's… that's _different _than what I expected."

"It's hard to calculate matters of another universe, Agent Parker, but _Agent Farnsworth_ did her best." _Olivia _tried to force a smile, but it came out uneasy – just like the one she gave Aruna a bit ago. "If you have any other questions, I'm sure Agent Lee and Peter Bishop will be able to assist you. I have another team I have to meet with. Please excuse me." She got up, nodded her head to acknowledge those in the room, and ushered herself out.

Peter smirked at Agent Parker, "It _is_ pretty small, isn't it?"

* * *

And now the last team. The Delta Team. The smallest team of all. And they deserved the smallest room.

_Olivia_ sat down in one of the six chairs surrounding a smaller table. Right beside her was Astrid. And next to them were four agents.

"You have been selected for the Delta Team for your essential balance of combat and technical skills. You will be assisting the Agent Farnsworth of the other universe." Astrid nodded her head and smiled at the small group. "Fringe Division did not want to sacrifice our _Agent Farnsworth_, no matter how hard I begged. Although I do understand how much she is needed. But, Agent Astrid here is more than enough to handle the task, too." _Olivia_ smiled at her. "She played a key role in constructing the device that will take us to the other universe."

The rest of the agents nodded their heads in respect and approval, talking a bit amongst themselves. Astrid flashed _Olivia_ a bigger smile and mouthed, "Thank you."

_Olivia_ brought up the map on their table and focused in on the yellow path. "We believe there is a station where you can access the facility's technology here." _Olivia's_ gaze narrowed, "You are the smallest team with a very vital set of objectives: eliminating their security cameras; disabling any defense systems; and unlocking doors and areas that obstruct the away teams from securing the two targets. The success of the entire operation depends on you blinding and crippling the Foundation. But," _Olivia_ looked at the five before her, "Since you are the smallest team, you are the most vulnerable. Use stealth and speed to your advantage. Keep out of the line of fire. Try not to engage unless you have to; leave the warfare to the two away teams. But at the same time, keep yourselves alive." _Olivia_ paused to see if there were any issues. This team was a lot quieter and a lot more focused than most – because they had to be. _Olivia_ zeroed in on the target room circled in yellow, "When you get here, I would like two agents stationed outside – the two amongst you who are the best handling their guns."

Astrid offered a suggestion, "Or, whoever feels the most comfortable with technology comes with me. I need people with fast fingers and faster minds. We'll be on the clock and one mistake, one false button pushed or switch activated or wire cut, and the whole mission will be in jeopardy." Astrid looked at the four before her, "So who's with me?"

Two raised their hands and grinned at each other in unison.

"Agents Damien Lee and Damon Gonzalez." _Olivia_ nodded in approval. "When you finish your objectives in your target room, you will head back to the rendezvous point following the yellow path. Again, focusing on speed and stealth. However, if there are problems with the Omega and Alpha teams in securing the targets, you have permission to follow the green path instead. Or if the Beta Team needs help with managing the safety of the tunnels, double back there. If you are needed elsewhere after you have executed your main objective, go there. Any questions?"

The agents shook their heads. _Olivia_ assumed they would play it by ear and take it as it happened.

_Olivia_ smiled, a true and relaxed smile, "Alright! You are dismissed."

The rest of the agents left the room, save for Astrid. "You haven't told Walter what he has to do, have you?" she asked, a bit tense.

_Olivia's_ smiled dissipated. "No. I haven't."

"I'll go with you," Astrid offered. "It'll be easier if we spread the blow between us."

"Is he really going to take it that bad?" _Olivia_ sighed as she got up. "No. You're right. He's going to hate us. And me especially."

"Don't worry. You're not going to be alone." Astrid gave her a half-smile. She knew Walter Bishop more than most. And she knew that it wasn't going to be easy.

* * *

"I am NOT staying behind!" Walter stood up, eyes vehement and burning. "I am NOT staying behind! I can be of assistance! I can help. I can do a great deal over there. I... I…" But then Walter started to falter. And Walter and his voice started to shake. "I… I want to make sure… that everything goes _safely_. That there aren't… Fringe events on the loose… and just in case Olivia and Nick… aren't themselves… I can help them." His voice broke, "Why won't you let me help them?"

"_Walter_." It was breaking Astrid's heart to see him this way. And she had been there – on the outside looking in, begging to be allowed in on the mission. She had been there and yet she was denying him access – and for the same reason he had with her. She loved him too much to see him hurt. A potential battlefield was no place for an old man. Especially one who could get as flustered and overwhelmed as Walter. Especially one who regressed so much when faced with certain danger. And yet, Walter could bring a lot to the table. They didn't know what they would be getting into on the Other Other Side; he would be as good a consultant as any, given his understanding of the scientific world and beyond. And yet…

"No. Absolutely not." _Olivia _had to be stern. _Olivia_ had to be cold. She was in charge and she had to think for the good of the entire mission, not just one man. And she had weighed the options. She and Broyles had argued **extensively** over Walter's position in the whole scheme of things alone. She was making the right call and yet… why did she feel so guilty? "Your place is here with the machine, making the necessary changes if fluctuations between the universes occur and if the coordinates of the master key change. And you're the only one left, along with Secretary Bishop, who we can trust alone with the machine. Agent Farnsworth is coming with us and our _Agent Farnsworth_ is back at headquarters doing her job." _Olivia _tried adopting a gentler approach. It usually worked for Astrid, so why not for her? She looked into Walter's eyes and placed her hands on either side of him, softening her tone and her gaze, "We need you here. You're the best person for _this _job."

But Walter snarled at _Olivia_, his old biases bubbling back to the surface. "Get off of me you **snake**!" He shoved _Olivia's _hands away. "Trying to charm me like you do other men. It won't work this time! I am going there with Peter and with the rest – with Astro. If Astro is going, **I** am going. There is nothing you can do about it."

Fine. If it was going to be this way then fine. _Olivia's_ chest puffed out, leaning into the man, "Walter. Bishop." She didn't want to use such a harsh tone with him, but it was necessary. "I am head of command of this mission and when I say you're not going – You. Are. **Not**. Going. Have I made myself clear?" Her gaze would have scorched holes into a lesser man.

"Walter, _please_." Astrid followed through with her gentler tone. "Where we're going… it isn't safe for you. And… you don't even know how to use a gun. You don't know how to protect yourself. We… we don't want anything to happen to you. Peter and Lincoln and Broyles all agree with this decision. It's to keep you safe. We only want to keep you safe."

"Is this the good cop-bad cop routine? Because I don't have to listen to this." Walter whipped around and placed his fingers in his ears. "I'm not listening, _**Agent Dunham**_." Her name twisted out of his mouth like a curse.

_Olivia _yanked his arms away. "Walter! I don't have time for your immaturity right now! You are – you would be – a** liability** if we took you. I would have to call in five additional men to cover you. I would have to utilize more resources to brief them on their mission just to protect you from danger. And those are five men, five great agents, who could be used elsewhere. But no, they would have to _babysit _you." Walter would hate her after this. Or Walter would hate her MORE after this. But she didn't care. She was used to it and more importantly, she was doing her job. And she had been doing her job the last time she had hurt him. She was just following orders. And right now, she needed him to follow hers. "I can't guarantee your safety there, but I am doing what's best to guarantee the safety of Olivia and Nick when they return. And WHEN they return, they will need YOU. You will attend to them as soon as they get back. You'll give them a full check-up because you and YOU ALONE will know what's best for them. But if you die before we can even secure them, if you die before Olivia can even see you again, then I will have failed her and **you**." _Olivia_ shook her head. "I want this mission to be a success. And I'm doing what's necessary. Hate me or not, you are not crossing over and that's FINAL." _Olivia _turned around and started to walk away. But she stopped. She clenched her fists and tipped her head, looking at her shoulder and at him through her peripheral vision, "But if I catch you scheming to cross over, or if I catch you on that other side when we're there… so help me _**God**_, Walter." And with that, she walked away.

Walter sat down, looking utterly defeated. "I just… I just want what's best for Olivia."

"But can't you see, Walter?" Astrid sat down next to him and stroked his back, "So does she. She's taken on this ENTIRE mission by herself since Broyles left. And she has done SO MUCH for Olivia – for all of us." Astrid wrapped one of her arms around him and brought him closer, hoping to comfort him. "She's done so much for us. Four months ago, even three months ago, she wouldn't have done any of this. She's… she's come a long way, Walter. And so should you."

Walter bowed his head, finally understand his place. "Yes, yes you're right. I was being selfish and foolish. I wasn't thinking about…" He paused and laughed. "She's right. She's a _viper_, but she's right. I am the best man, along with Walternate, to man the machine. I don't belong out there with the rest of you. But…" He turned to her and grabbed Astrid's other hand with both of his. "I want you to come home safe, Asgard. If I lose you… if I lose you, too… I don't know what I'd do with myself." He squeezed her hand tight and gave her a tight smile. "I can't have you taken away from me, too."

Astrid felt tears welling up in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around Walter in a deep embrace. "I promise, Walter. I promise I'll come back safe. And with Olivia."


End file.
